


Distance

by Snailhair



Series: Solo [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Cas, Bottom Dean, Demons, Demons being dicks, Destiel - Freeform, Dildos, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Graphic Violence, Humor, Hunting, M/M, Panties, Sabriel - Freeform, Sex Toys, Smut, Some angst, Sub Dean, Top Cas, Top Dean, dead children, dom Cas, hints of Crobby, sexual fantasies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-13
Updated: 2017-03-19
Packaged: 2018-10-04 06:39:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 41,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10270505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snailhair/pseuds/Snailhair
Summary: Now that he has come to terms with his brother's relationship with the Trickster, Dean worries that the distance between himself, Sam, Gabriel, Bobby - and even Cas - is beginning to fluctuate. Meanwhile, Bobby enlists help from the boys to track down a demon who has been preying on children.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again, everyone, and welcome to the sixth and final part of the Solo Series! :) This part has a lot of steamy smut and laugh-out-loud moments - but there is also some harsh angst at times. And I'll make sure to give you a heads up before each of those chapters so that you will be warned. With that said, I hope you enjoy! :)

Dean toweled off his damp hair as he shuffled along the hall toward Bobby's kitchen. The old man's study was still shut and locked from both entrances, shielding some kind of secret. Of course, Dean was only assuming there was something in there that Bobby didn't want anyone to see. Why else would he shut and lock the doors? It wasn't like his mess of empty liquor bottles and splayed text books was going to suddenly offend the Winchesters. They had seen that sight all their lives. There had to be something else going on in that study...

Dean tried his best to shake off his curiosity when he finally stepped back into the kitchen. Sam was still seated at the table, long arms and legs both crossed. His damp hair was a mess on his head and he seemed kind of pensive, maybe thinking about the same topic Dean was. The older brother slung his towel on his own shoulder as he strode toward the table. Both of them had finally gotten showers to wash off all the rank food they had thrown at each other that day. Although, Dean was sure his own shower hadn't been as satisfying as Sam's.

“Thanks for taking all the hot water,” Dean mentioned, adding a heavy dose of sarcasm.

Sam sort of blinked up at him, coming out of his thoughts. He raked a hand through his lengthy hair and sat up straight in his seat, seeming genuinely apologetic.

“Oh. Sorry,” he mumbled.

Dean shook his head to signal that he was just poking fun. To be honest, all the years of taking the second shower had grown on him. He was used to getting a cold shower every now and again. It was refreshing, bracing, and made him feel more masculine... A smile slipped across Dean's mouth. Maybe he didn't mind the cold shower so much because it compensated for how delicate Cas made him feel in the bedroom...

The brief flicker of Cas that crossed Dean's mind made the man realize the time. It had been hours since he last saw that angelic face. Hours since he lost himself in that sapphire stare and felt that thump in his own heart beat. Cas had been gone for _hours_. And Cas was never gone for that long... Dean glanced around the kitchen, seeing the darkness of night beyond the windows and the clock on the wall that read something 'til ten. Cas and Gabriel had only left to get the damn Impala. Did they decide to take a freakin' detour on the way back? Did they get lost or something? How the hell could two angels get lost in a world that their own dad created?

“Where the hell are they?” Dean blurted out loud.

It was apparent that Dean didn't need to say anymore. Sam knew exactly who he was referring to. The angels must have been on his mind too, because he flashed a glance out the window as soon as Dean said it. A look of obvious worry crossed the younger brother's face. Sammy's pursed lips and scrunched eyebrows made Dean think about his little brother's weird relationship with the trickster again.

Sam had not been in very many committed relationships – and Dean hadn't either, really. It was just unspoken Winchester knowledge that you didn't get close to someone unless you wanted them to die. Hell, they had talked enough about that today at Bobby's group therapy session. But now that Sam was with Gabriel, Dean could see just how much that archangel meant to his little brother. When Gabriel was around, it was like the sun was always shining on Sam's face. The kid was all smiles all the time. And when the trickster was gone – like he was in that very moment – there didn't seem to be a trace of sunshine anywhere. Sammy's face was bland and troubled, as gray as the clouds on a stormy day. There used to be a time when Sam's face lit up when _Dean_ was around; when he was just a little kid, excited to hang out with his older brother. Had Gabriel stolen Dean's spotlight in Sam's life?

“Do you think they're okay?”

Sam's question yanked Dean out his jealous thoughts. He was back in the kitchen with his brother again, staring down at the concern on Sam's face. While Sammy searched his eyes with questioning, Dean kicked himself in his mind. It was stupid to think he didn't mean much to Sam anymore. Sam still looked up to him, right? So what if the trickster was just as important to Sam as Dean was? The Winchesters were always going to stick together. Besides, in Dean's world, Cas and Sam were on the same level too.

Before Dean could gather his words to reply to his brother, a giant whoosh filled the kitchen.

“That was incredibly rude, Gabriel.”

Dean instantly spun around at the sound of Cas's short tone. The angels were back again, standing side-by-side near the refrigerator. Cas's wind-swept hair and intense eyes made Dean's heart flutter and his stomach seize up. Shit, how did the sight of Cas alone _still_ give him stupid butterflies? How did he always manage to look so freakin' sexy with his hands balled up and his lips curled together? Cas seemed pretty pissed, glaring at Gabriel next to him. The short archangel toed his way passed Dean and waved a hand in the air.

“Oh, it was just a little burn mark, honey-bee. No need to get your stinger in a knot,” he dismissed, heading for Sam.

When Gabriel said the words 'burn mark,' the Impala was the first thing to cross Dean's mind.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean grumbled in panic, thinking that the trickster might have done something to his car _again_ , “What the hell did you do this time?”

Gabriel ignored Dean for a moment – long enough to stride right up to Sam, climb up on the tips of his toes, give the younger Winchester a quick kiss, and spin back around – before answering.

“Nothing! The hotel manager and I just had a little chat,” Gabriel objected, turning to lower his voice and give Sam a suggestive smirk, “By the way, moose, that 'fresh-out-of-the-shower' look you've got going on is making me longer and harder than the Great Wall of China...”

Dean tried to hold down the vomit that was threatening to crest in his mouth. Oh, God. He did _not_ want those images in his brain. Why did the trickster always talk about shit like that in front of him? Sam's face was rose-red too, eyes wide and embarrassed.

“ _Gabriel_ ,” he hissed in annoyance under his breath.

“You did not 'chat' with the hotel manager,” Cas interrupted, rescuing Dean from the terrible visuals in his mind, “You set fire to his head.”

Dean's eyes flew wide. Gabriel had set someone on fire?! No wonder it took the angels so long to get back to Bobby's house. The trickster was too busy pulling pranks to notice the time.

“That wasn't his head, Cassie. It was a toupee,” Gabriel corrected, as if it made any difference, “Besides, he deserved it for trying to swindle us out of seven thousand dollars. He's lucky I didn't set the whole damn hotel on fire for that snide comment he made to _you_.”

A streak of protectiveness flashed through Dean instantly. His eyes snapped back to Cas at once.

“He made a snide comment to you?” Dean asked, searching the angel's innocent blue eyes, “What comment?”

Dean would be damned if he was going to let anyone get away with being an asshole to his precious angel. He would drive all damn night just to get back to the stupid place and put the guy in a choke hold until he apologized if he had to. Just like with Sam, Dean felt an overwhelming need to defend Cas, even if it was just over one stupid little comment.

“He called Cas a 'pretty city boy,'” Gabriel answered, “But don't worry, Pinky, I made him pay for it. Literally. I didn't pay for our rooms, so he's gonna lose a shit-ton of profit. Not to mention the toupee thing. That's what he gets for being an asshole.”

Dean blinked strangely toward Gabriel, eying the trickster's pompous smirk. Though he would never admit it out loud, Dean was secretly impressed. That spiteful act was something that Dean probably would have done too, especially to a douche bag that had been rude to Cas. Maybe Sam was right. Maybe there actually was a tiny sliver of likeness between Dean and Gabriel...

“Good,” Dean mumbled under his breath.

“No. It was the opposite of good,” Cas spoke up, bringing Dean's eyes back to him.

The dark-haired angel seemed a tad remorseful, blue eyes shining with regret. This was one of the traits Cas possessed that Dean admired so much; his unfailing compassion and steadfast morals. Cas was always so good to people – maybe a little _too_ good – and it upset him to be involved in pointless confrontation. He was such a sweet guy... such an _angel_...

Dean shook his head and smiled a bit as he stepped close to Cas. His arms slid up to tuck tightly around the angel's slender torso while he nestled his face into the crease of Cas's coat collar. Ah, the sweet aroma of Cas was so damn intoxicating, always able to make Dean light-headed at the faintest sniff. He could feel the angel's arms carefully circling around to holding him close too. Maybe it was the few hours apart that caused them to be so affectionate with each other. But, whatever the case was, Dean was glad. Because hugging Cas like this felt like coming home...

“Hello, Dean,” Cas said, low and soft lips moving against Dean's neck.

Dean's smile was genuine. Those two words never failed to give him peace of mind. The man's mouth tilted upward just enough to plant his lips on the very edge of Cas's jawbone.

“Hey, Cas,” he replied softly into the angel's ear.

They both stood like that for a moment, just holding each other in their arms while Sam and Gabriel talked quietly across the room, until the sound of heavy footsteps entered the kitchen. Dean raised his head at the sound, peering beyond Cas's shoulder to see a figure approaching. It was Bobby, walking in from the hallway. Except now, he was wearing a new set of clothes. At first, Dean thought Bobby had gotten a shower too, by the smell of cleanliness radiating from him when he walked into the room. But, after a moment, Dean realized that the smell was Pine-Sol and bleach. Bobby absolutely reeked of household cleaning supplies. Why the hell did he smell so pine fresh?

The old man glanced from Dean and Cas hugging to Sam and Gabriel holding hands before shaking his head slightly and finishing his walk to the huge study door. Dean took a step back from the angel in his arms to get a better look at Bobby undoing the lock on the door handle. Why was he acting so damn secretive about it? After a small 'click,' the old man turned back around to face the room again. His expression seemed a bit weary, eyes sunken and face aged.

“Boys,” he began, glancing from Dean to Sam, “I know you've got a lot of, er, heavenly stuff goin' on in your own lives right now... but I sure would appreciate your help on somethin'...”

Dean and Sam glance at each other instantly and the older brother could see the same underlying suspicion and worry in his younger brother's face. It was clear that Sam could see it too; that Bobby was acting a little bizarre. Usually, _they_ were the ones going to _him_ for help. Since when did the wisest hunter in the world need help from the same kids he called 'idjits'?

“Aww, what is it, Singer? Are you feeling left out because you're not getting any angel action?” Gabriel asked in a dramatically concerned tone, “I can make a few calls if you wanna score your own halo buddy -”

“Give it a rest, pipsqueak,” Bobby snapped, his face blazing with heat as he glared toward the archangel, “I'm talkin' 'bout _a case_. A real one, not some bullshit distraction. I ain't got all the information yet, but I do have a lead... If you're interested.”

Dean took a deep breath and shared another glance with his brother. How could they possibly say no to the guy? This was still the family business, after all. Angels at their sides or no...

“Sure,” Dean finally answered, “What have you got?”

With a small breath, Bobby turned back around to the study door. After a few 'clink's of a lock being removed, the old man finally slid the heavy door open. Dean drank in the sight of the study being revealed at once, secretly scanning for any noticeable differences inside. He just knew there had to be a dead body in there, or at least something disturbing or gross. But, the first thing that struck Dean wasn't something that he could see. It was something he smelled. The harsh scent of Pine-Sol and bleach – the very same smell that Bobby was drenched in – was strong in the room. The closer Dean moved inside, the worse it became.

It was obvious that the old man had given the room a thorough scrubbing. Everything was neatly put away and in order; books shelved, empty bottles thrown away, desk tidy. It was incredibly clean. _Too_ clean, by Bobby's standards. Dean felt more suspicious than ever. There had been something in this room, he knew it for sure. But, whatever it was, it was long gone, now. Dean reached back and took Cas's hand while he looked around at every tiny detail of Bobby's study. The effort to find something out of place was pointless, really. If Bobby didn't want something to be found, then it was _never_ going to be found...

“Uh, did Mr. Clean pay you a visit?” Gabriel asked, waving a hand in front of nose, “Geez, the smell of citrus is burning my retinas.”

Bobby ignored Gabriel as he walked to the desk. He picked up a newspaper and held it out toward Sam, who took it instantly.

“Clyde Freeman,” The old man said, shifting everyone's attention to the case, “Said he overheard his nephew selling his soul to the devil for a new saddle. Next day, the kid was found floatin' face down in a pond near his uncle's farm. No forensic evidence. No foul play. Best part is, cops found a brand new saddle sittin' in the barn. Never used.”

Dean took a moment to consider all this information while Sam stared blankly at the newspaper and the angels glanced at one another. The way Bobby said it, so bland and unsurprised, made Dean assume that this was something they had dealt with before. Dean quickly racked his brain for something that sounded similar.

“It says here that the nephew was only twelve,” Sam said out loud, “I thought children couldn't sell their souls. I mean, don't you have to be a certain age to sign a contract?”

“Once a kid is old enough to know right from wrong, it's fair game,” Bobby sighed, hanging his head a bit, “Some lore says that with boys, it's around age ten. But with girls, it's a little younger. And they don't even have to kiss or write a name. Sometimes a drop of blood is all a demon needs. The youngest soul ever sold willingly belonged to a three-year-old girl. Or, so I've heard. Can't exactly trust demon gossip.”

The thought made Dean absolutely sick. Soul-trafficking in general was bad enough to deal with, but with kids thrown into the mix, it was a thousand times worse. Dean's hand tightened around Cas's trying to find comfort amidst the disturbing thoughts of damned souls...

“That's the second dead kid this week who's supposedly sold their soul to the devil,” Bobby went on, “So, I'm figurin' some whacked-out demon is running around making bogus deals with kids to boost his soul count.”

“That sounds like something Crowley would do,” Cas stated, sounding matter-of-fact.

Dean didn't miss the brief look that crossed Bobby's face at the angel's words. The old man's eyes flickered wider and he tilted his head farther down, blocking his face with the worn bill of his hat. Some part of Cas's sentence made Bobby uncomfortable. Dean, on the other hand, thought that Cas was absolutely right.

“Cas has a point,” Dean insisted, staring at the scuffed bill of Bobby's hat, “This sounds like some straight up 'Devil went down to Georgia' crap, Bobby. And nobody piles up souls like Crowley does.”

“Maybe,” Bobby mumbled, “All I know is, I ain't lettin' another kid die on my watch. I'm working on getting the address of that Freeman fella. And I was hopin' the two of you might wanna head over there and interview him. Try to find out -”

“Uh, I think you mean the _three_ of us,” Gabriel interrupted, arching an eyebrow, “This tall rack of antlers isn't going anywhere without his arm candy.”

Dean rolled his eyes when Gabriel looped his tiny arm around Sam's and tugged him close. Sam was obviously trying to hide a smile beneath his pink cheeks, seeming flattered to have Gabriel as an arm-accessory.

“The _four_ of us,” Cas corrected in a harsh tone, stepping forward defiantly.

Dean glanced up at the angel next to him, feeling a twinge of arousal in the pit of his stomach. Cas's jaw was set and his eyes were intense, reminding him of their time alone in the bedroom. An angel had no right to look so damn sexy when saying the simplest of things... Bobby groaned aloud, finally raising his head in order to dramatically roll his eyes.

“Whatever. I don't care if you take the groupies with you on the road,” he sighed, “Just as long as you get it done.”

“Do you want some help looking for his address, Bobby?” Sam asked.

“No, I've got it. Y'all can make yourselves at home. Might take me a while,” the old man answered.

“ _A while_?” Dean repeated, feeling a tad exasperated.

It wasn't exactly a secret anymore that Dean loved having alone time with Cas. Fifty percent of the reason he loved being alone with his angel was, of course, all the intense mind-blowing sex they usually got into. Another forty-nine percent was because of all the cuddling and kissing and whispered affections they shared that never failed to make him feel so much better about being alive. But that tiny little one percent was because being alone with Cas also meant being away from everyone else. Dean sort of like the seclusion, far away from potential arguments and random chatter. Being alone with Cas, especially around bedtime, was something Dean looked forward to all day.

And when Bobby said that it might take a while for him to get the case going and told them to make themselves at home, Dean knew the indirect message underlying those words. It meant Bobby wanted them to stick around his house tonight. All night. Come morning, he would probably give them the information they needed. But until then, Bobby didn't want them to go. Dean had been dealing with people long enough to know that older folks craved company more than anyone else. And Bobby seemed to be acting weird lately, anyway. Maybe it was for the best if they stuck around tonight and gave him some company. Maybe it would ease his mind.

“Uh. Not sure if you've noticed, Singer, but you're about two beds short,” Gabriel blurted, “Where do you expect me to put my giant Sasquatch for the night? Out in your truck?”

Dean could see that Bobby was thinking quickly, probably trying to come up with an excuse for them to have to stay. And Dean felt bad for the old man, who never had much company. Like Bobby had said that very same day, life _was_ a dangerous road to walk alone. Dean knew he needed to stay in his old man's house tonight – even if it meant giving up his alone time with Cas.

“Sam usually takes the couch,” Dean informed, coming to Bobby's aid, “and I take the floor. It's only for one night.”

Dean looked the archangel in the eye while he was talking, trying to make sure Gabriel could see his seriousness. Dean cared for Bobby just as much, if not more, than anyone else did. And he wasn't about to let his father-figure down, especially after all of the kindness he had given Dean lately. To the man's surprise, Gabriel's eyes seemed to soften a little. The archangel glanced around the room – eying Bobby, Dean and Cas's joined hands, and Sam's puppy-eyes – before meeting Dean's stare again.

“I didn't have you pegged as the 'slumber party' type, princess,” Gabriel shrugged, appearing defeated, “but, okay.”

The trickster raised his hand and snapped his tiny fingers together – and two large beds suddenly appeared in Bobby's study. The couch on the right and the bookcase on the left were both shoved toward the kitchen to make room for the full-sized mattresses. Dean blinked at the plaid blankets and fluffy pillows, feeling strangely comforted. Again, Dean didn't want to admit that Gabriel's actions were pretty cool – but, dammit, they were pretty cool. Bobby, however, didn't seem as enthusiastic about his study being tampered with.

“Hey! What in the hell?!” he gasped.

“Chillax, old man. I'll fix it in the morning,” Gabriel said, hopping onto the bed on the right and tugging on Sam's hand, “Get over here, peach. Come and lay that pretty head down next to mine.”

The Winchesters glanced at each other and Dean could see the embarrassment and discomfort in Sam's face. Sam was deliberately hesitating, probably worried that Dean was going to say something against Sam and Gabriel sleeping in the same bed. But, after a long-ass day of personal reflections and talking shit out, Dean didn't mind it anymore. Who was he to stop his little brother from getting into bed with the trickster? If Sam wanted to do it, then Dean wasn't going to stand in his way. The older brother gave the younger a shrug, signaling his indifference. The tiny smile that lit up Sam's face made Dean feel kind of proud. Hmm. Maybe he _did_ still have a spotlight in Sammy's life...

“Whoa, whoa,” Bobby piped up, looking a little pale, “There ain't gonna be any foolin' around under those sheets tonight, alright? Y'all better keep your damn hoses in the shed, get me?”

“You don't have to worry, Bobby. We're not gonna do that stuff here. I promise,” Sam replied, crawling into bed next to Gabriel.

The old man shook his head and muttered some things under his breath before he turning off the light and hobbling out of the room. Dean watched him walk out in the glow of the fireplace, still silently wondering what the hell had gotten to him. At Dean's side, Cas raised his free hand toward the fireplace and the flames slowly died out, leaving the room completely dark, save the moonlight from the window. Dean smiled at his angel's workings. It was amazing how romantic Cas could be without even doing it on purpose...

“Nice,” Dean said in a hushed whisper.

The man gently fell onto the celestially-made bed and pulled his angel along with him. Cas tumbled onto the bed next to Dean, making their weight bounce a little on the mattress. After that, the only thing Dean could think about was the feeling of Cas's body heat in the dark. They were still fully dressed and barely touching, but God. Even the tiniest bit of Cas's warmth made Dean's heart pound. And he really hated that the smell of Pine-Sol and bleach was so damn heavy in the air, because it was choking out Cas's heavenly scent. Dean found himself scooting closer to the angel in the dark, nuzzling his face forward until his lips bumped into some part of Cas's face. Dean kissed – what he assumed was – Cas's cheek as he slid his arms tight around the angel's warm body.

“Are you cold, Dean?” Cas asked, barely audible, “I can warm -”

Having found the location of the angel's lips, Dean smashed his own mouth against it, muting Cas's question with a tender kiss. The familiar taste made Dean's blood pump faster and chills race across his skin. Kissing Cas always seemed to be the perfect remedy for everything...

“I'm fine,” Dean pulled away to whisper back, caressing the angel's clothed back.

Cas exhaled, making his sweet breath brush over Dean's face and wet lips. The man allowed his eyes to close while he gripped a handful of Cas's coat. He thought again about what Gabriel said; about some stupid asshole mouthing off to Cas. Anger was quick to flash through him, making his eyes open again.

“I would have kicked the shit out of that guy, you know,” Dean whispered, trying his best to see Cas's pretty face in the dark, “He would be drinking his food through a straw right about now if I'd been there.”

“What guy?” Cas asked, sounding lost.

“That stupid hotel guy,” Dean answered, rubbing the fabric of the angel's coat between his fingers, “The one that called you names.”

Dean could see a small simple smile resting on Cas's lips. The angel rose a hand to gently place it on the side of the man's face. Dean's eyes flickered closed again as he enjoyed the warmth and comfort of Cas's touch. God, he loved it when Cas touched him, no matter when or where it was. It was always so gentle and full of affection. Full of _love_.

“I have no doubt that you would have defended my honor nobly, Dean,” Cas whispered.

Dean smirked. Damn right, he would have... Dean's day had pretty much kicked his ass and his body was more than ready for sleep. His thoughts were already becoming fuzzy. For a moment, he forgot that he was in Bobby's house. He forgot that he was laying in the old man's study and that Sam and Gabriel were in a bed just across the room. All Dean knew for sure, was that he was falling asleep next to the one person that he adored more than anyone else in the world.

“I – I love you... Cas...” Dean mumbled, feeling the heaviness of sleep draping over his mind.

After a brief moment, two moist lips were gently pressing against the man's forehead in the dark. Dean barely felt it happening because he was almost asleep. But he did manage to catch the sound of Cas's low voice speaking just before he faded off completely...

“I love you, too, Dean.”

* * *

The Impala rolled up the slick driveway, making the tires splash through mud puddles all the way up the hill. The windshield wipers were slipping back and forth across the glass with a metronomic sound, filling the fogged car with tiny squeaks. It was drizzling rain in the haze of the morning and the inside of the car was as foggy as hell. Dean couldn't help but think that all the extra mouths were the reason for the steamed up windows. Sammy was sitting next to him and both angels were in the backseat, along with the dog in Gabriel's lap. Dean tried his best not to be upset about the Jack Russell Terrier being in the car, remembering the last time he said something about it. He glanced around at all the faces and huffed a breath. There were just too many people for this.

“Nobody is gonna believe that it takes four guys to investigate a murder,” Dean mumbled, mostly to himself.

“It takes a whole team to investigate a murder, Dean,” Sam uttered back, “but if you want, we could try to start working in pairs. You and Cas, and me and Gabe. Might get done faster that way.”

Another echo of discomfort passed through Dean at the statement. Work in separate pairs? But working cases was something that Dean and Sam did together. It was the _family_ business. The _Winchester_ business. Again, Dean worried that Gabriel was gaining the bigger part in Sam's life. Did Sam not like hanging out with his cool older brother anymore? Was there some kind of strange distance growing between them?

“Uh-oh. Road block,” Gabriel said, hopping forward to point through the windshield.

Dean blinked himself out of his daze to hit the brakes. A giant metal gate was blocking the rest of the driveway. The farmhouse was in sight just beyond it, planted neatly on a cozy hillside. The gate in front of them, however, was locked.

“Don't you worry, fellas. I can handle this,” Gabriel said.

With a rustle of wings, the archangel was gone from the Impala and suddenly standing in front of the metal gate. Dean glared forward at the short blonde guy. Oh, God. What was the trickster going to do this time? Dean heard the distinct sound of Cas sighing before another rustle of feathers filled the car. Both of the angels were standing a few feet in front of the Impala now, talking to each other in hushed tones. It looked like Cas was trying to stop Gabriel from doing something stupid. In passenger seat, Sam shook his head.

“Gabe is probably trying to blast it open,” he said quietly.

“And Cas is probably trying to stop him,” Dean added, tossing a smirk to his little brother.

A moment passed by in silence while the angels debated on how to open the gate before Sam spoke again. He was practically whispering, sounding kind of embarrassed.

“Hey, um, you didn't hear anything from our side of the room last night, did you?” he asked.

Dean's eyes flew wide and his head snapped fully toward Sam. What the hell? Sam and Gabe didn't have sex last night, did they? In Bobby's study? _While Dean and Cas were in the same damn room?_ Sam must have seen the panic and outrage on Dean's face because he quickly added -

“No, we – we didn't do _that_ ,” he assured, “Gabe was just whispering stuff, and... I'm sorry if you heard any of it.”

“No,” Dean answered, taking a deep breath to calm himself, “I pretty much went straight to sleep.”

The older brother could tell that the younger was thinking hard about something. Sam's eyes were glued to Gabriel through the windshield and his lips were pressed into a line, making him look like a kid studying a blackboard. If there was anything Dean was proud to do, it was talking to Sammy about his problems. And it looked like the guy needed to talk.

“What is it, Sam? You got trickster issues?” Dean asked, noticing the unbreakable stare his brother had on Gabriel.

Sam blinked toward Dean and his face turned a little pink. Bashfulness was written all over his face.

“Do you – do you think it's possible that, um... C – can angels show their wings while, uh... You know,” Sam stuttered, looking away in embarrassment, “... while doing it?”

Dean could feel heat on his own face. It wasn't every day that he and Sam talked about serious sex stuff. To be fair, their dad wasn't around when they were growing up and they basically had to teach themselves about it. Of course, the occasional playboy or porno would pop up and the uncomfortable conversation would be unavoidable. But now that they were both in semi-stable relationships with angels that were around all the time, the topic just seemed so _personal_. Dean could remember wondering about the answer to Sam's question himself, not too long ago. And hearing the shyness in Sam's voice amused him.

“Hell yeah they can,” Dean answered, smiling.

Sam's eyes eventually made their way back to Dean's, wide and curious. The kid cleared his throat and sat up a little straighter, the red tint on his cheeks never fading.

“They can? I mean, you and Cas have...?” he trailed off.

“Oh yeah,” Dean nodded, “A few times.”

Sam's throat quivered like he was gulping down his insecurity.

“And when, um, when it happens... When they turn celestial...” Sam edged off again, urging Dean to finish the statement.

“Let me put it this way, Sammy,” Dean grinned, easing back in his seat and feeling full of wisdom, “Carmen Electra, Pam Anderson, and the entire playboy mansion _combined_ couldn't make me come as hard as I do when Cas breaks out those wings.”

The look of awe on Sam's face made Dean feel strangely proud. It kind of felt nice to share his personal experiences with someone who could relate, especially when it was his own brother. And Dean's words couldn't be more honest. Cas's celestial badassery really _did_ have the power to make him come like nothing else. Just thinking about it make his stomach tense...

A small 'bang' interrupted Dean and Sam's conversation. They both looked beyond the windshield to see that the entire gate had been ripped from the fence and tossed aside. After Gabriel dusted off his hands, both angels were suddenly sitting in the backseat again; Cas glaring at Gabriel while Gabriel sat nonchalantly next to him, petting his dog.

“See? No sweat. I'd like to see Siri try to navigate better than me,” the archangel mused.

“I'm so sorry, Dean,” Cas mumbled, sounding remorseful, “I tried to stop him.”

Dean turned in his seat to give a reassuring smile to his angel. All that talk about wings had planted the seed of arousal in Dean's gut and looking at Cas's familiar face made it start to grow in full bloom. God, they really needed to get on with this case before his dick had time to turn any harder.

As Dean tossed the car into drive and began moseying up the driveway, he noticed that a pensive look was still lingering on Sammy's face. Had their conversation been interrupted too soon? Did Sam still have more questions to ask? Did he still need some comfort for his strange thoughts? Dean lifted a hand from the steering wheel in order to hold a fist toward his brother in the passenger seat.

“Bros before halos?” Dean offered.

Sam gave a single chuckle and glanced up at Dean with a smile. The kid's laughter made Dean feel relieved. The distance between them wasn't so bad, was it? Just because they were with their own angels, now, didn't mean they had to be far apart. Sam bumped his own fist against Dean's and shook his head with a grin.

“Bros before halos,” he repeated.


	2. Chapter 2

Castiel exited the Impala along with Gabriel and both Winchesters. Rain was still coming down in a drizzle, casting a wet shine on their hair and clothing. They had finally made it all the way to the farmhouse on a hill, which stood adjacently to a large barn. The sounds and smells of livestock were drifting from the open doors and into the moist air. This was, no doubt, a place of harvest and homely labor. Castiel had always secretly admired the farmer above other humans. They had mighty grit and strength when it came to plowing stubborn fields, and yet, still retained a gentle patience to wait for food to grow. It was a testament to the abilities of Castiel's father; that the all-maker could _create_ something that possessed the same power to _create_.

Farmers were a rare gift to mankind. But they could not compare to the greatness of hunters.

Castiel looked up at Dean as they all migrated to the front of the vehicle. The angel silently admired the faint trace of freckles on the man's glistening face and the emerald eyes that glanced along his surroundings. Truly, hunters were the most sovereign of humans. Dean himself was the shining example of everything a hunter encompassed; bravery, compassion, intelligence, cunning, devotion... The adjectives were endless. To Castiel, there was no better hunter – no better _human_ – than Dean Winchester.

“Alright,” Dean said, his beautiful lips pouting slightly as he dug around in his jacket pocket, “This is how it's gonna work. Sam and I are going to do all the talking and you two are gonna keep your mouths shut. Especially you, shorty,” Dean warned, tossing an ID badge toward Gabriel, “No comments from the peanut gallery in there. I'm serious.”

Gabriel caught the small wallet in midair and rolled his golden eyes.

“Yes, Drill Sargent,” the archangel mumbled, giving Dean a less than enthusiastic solute.

Dean suddenly turned toward Castiel, making his vibrant green eyes cause the breath to become lodged in the angel's throat. The man reached out to adjust Cas's attire, straightening his coat and tie.

“Just long enough to interview this guy,” he man said more quietly, speaking only to Castiel, “After that, we can get back on the road again. Maybe... find a motel...”

The angel could hear the subtle taste of longing in Dean's tone. Castiel was starkly aware that the two of them had not engaged in sexual acts in over twenty-four hours. Most humans would probably see that as a reasonable gap of abstinence. Perhaps every two to three days was an acceptable amount of time in between bouts of intercourse – for normal humans, that is. But Castiel knew that Dean was not like other humans. Dean's need for sex was almost primal, mimicking the urges of a lioness during mating season. For Dean and Castiel, twenty-four hours was an excruciatingly long time.

Castiel raised his hand to rest it on the center of the man's chest. His body heat was prominent under the angel's palm, causing arousal to flicker in Cas's own vessel. He could feel every beat of Dean's heart, steady and thumping.

“It won't be long, Dean,” Cas promised, under his breath.

The man seemed to find some comfort in the angel's words. He nodded briefly and appeared to shake himself from lustful thoughts before releasing the front of Castiel's clothes.

“Are we ready to do this?” he asked toward Sam and Gabriel.

The younger Winchester and the archangel glanced toward them, seeming to be coming out of their own personal conversation. Sam cleared his throat before walking over to join Dean at the head of the group. The angels lingered behind them to walk in stride. The planks of the wooden porch creaked under their footsteps as they journeyed to the front door. Dean knocked on it casually before straightening out his own tie and jacket. Castiel could tell that the man was jittery.

It was only a moment before a figure appeared at the door. It was an older man; a farmer, from the appearance of his calloused hands, worn clothing, and aged face. A thick white beard cascaded from his chin and his mouth was surrounded in white facial hair. His gray eyes were sunken and bloodshot and his lips were chapped; signs of weeping grievously. The elderly man glanced around at all the unfamiliar faces on his porch and his throat quivered.

“Can I help you, fellas?” he asked, voice weak.

“Hello, Mr. Clyde Freeman?” Sam asked.

The old gentleman nodded, still looking from man to man.

“I'm Agent Harrison,” Sam said, holding up his badge, “and these are my partners, Agent McCartney, Agent Lennon, and Agent... Starr...” Sam trailed off.

Perhaps the names were important somehow, because Sam seemed to have difficulty saying them. And now that they were spoken, the younger Winchester appeared embarrassed, as if he thought he was about to be caught in a lie. Beside Castiel, Gabriel could see Sam's distress as well.

“Yep. That's me,” Gabriel piped up as he stuck his hand out, appearing to be rescuing Sam from discomfort, “How're you doing, old man? Are you hanging in there? Getting all your daily fiber? Oats are good for you, am I right? Gotta keep that septic system flowing.”

Mr. Freeman only stared blankly toward Gabriel, seeming perplexed. Dean and Sam, however, both shot glares toward the archangel, who hesitantly withdrew his hand under their fierce stares.

“We're here to talk to you about the recent event with your nephew,” Sam said quickly, steering the conversation back on track, “We heard there might have been some suspicious activity surrounding his death.”

Heartbreak was quick to fall over the elderly man's face. His bottom lip quivered slightly and the pain was raw in his eyes. Dean – who, Castiel knew, was always sympathetic toward another person in pain – cleared his throat.

“We're sorry for your loss,” he added quietly.

“Come in,” Mr. Freeman permitted, shuffling away from the door, “I was just finishin' up in the kitchen.”

Sam was the first to go inside, followed closely by Gabriel. Dean filed in behind the archangel in order to smack the back of his golden head. Castiel knew that the act was as painless for Gabriel as a mammoth bumping into a fly. But the archangel flinched anyway, perhaps because he knew he deserved it.

“ _Jackass_ ,” Dean mumbled.

Inside the kitchen, Mr. Freeman took a seat in front of a strange looking barrel. The men and angels followed him inside to stand near the counter. Castiel observed the strange barrel before them, finding it a bit strange. Why was there a large stick protruding from the top? The barrel itself was closed off around the stick, covering something inside. As Sam began to ask questions, the farmer took hold of the stick and began to hoist it up and down. Castiel blinked toward this action, attempting to understand its workings. He had never witnessed such a contraption before. What was the farmer doing?

“Mr. Freeman -”

“Call me Clyde,” the elderly man huffed, still upset.

“Clyde,” Sam corrected, “You said in the report that you, um, overheard your nephew talking to the devil. What exactly did... uh... did that mean?”

Castiel glanced down the line of Winchesters toward Sam,to see why he was speaking in broken slurs. It took a moment for the angel to realize that Sam, Gabriel – and even Dean – were all staring toward the barrel on the floor with wide eyes. Cas studied the surprise on Dean's face, attempting to understand why they all appeared so stunned... Why they all appeared so _lustful_...

Castiel looked back at the strange contraption on the floor and finally understood their reactions. The way the farmer was handling the stick – shoving it down inside the small opening, over and over – was reminiscent of sexual intercourse. Cas was unable to move his eyes now. The bright blue orbs were glued to the stick moving up and down, penetrating the tiny hole. Arousal was flickering in Castiel's lower stomach and growing to accommodate his pelvis. Suddenly, twenty-four hours seemed like a lifetime. His vessel was fully aware that it had been denied intercourse for incredibly too long...

“Yeah,” Clyde sighed, churning the large stick mechanically into the small hole, “Wasn't nothin' I could do. The devil tricked him, I know it. That's all the devil's good for. Trickin' people.”

Castiel's mouth was running dry as he watched the way the stick entered the opening without resistance. Oh, it was same the way Dean's opening responded to Castiel's erection; willing to accept the hard shaft at a moment's notice, never too hesitant. Blood was rushing toward the angel's member at the memory of Dean's tight hole clinching around him, coaxing him to release his seed inside...

“Um, r – right,” Sam said breathlessly, “And did – did you happen to get a good look at him?”

“I ain't never laid eyes on the devil, son,” Clyde said, “No, I didn't see 'em. I just heard him, 'round the other side of the barn. Thought George was talkin' to himself, 'til I heard the devil speakin'. Promised him a new saddle, he did. But the poor kid never got to use it. The devil collected what he was owed the next day.”

The organ beyond Castiel's clothes was hardened and thumping, already begging the angel to allow it to penetrate something. Cas quickly shoved his hands into his coat pockets to prevent them from touching his pelvis. The urge to take Dean and fly somewhere was getting stronger. The angel glanced up at the man next to him again and could see the lust in full bloom inside the green haze of his stare. It was obvious that Dean was affected by the old man's churning stick, too. Perhaps his member was hardening as well. Sam, who appeared to be trying his best to deny the lust, forced himself to speak.

“Did you hear a name being mentioned?” he asked, “Or a place?”

The farmer's motions slowed considerably, causing the thick wooden stick to ease ever slightly back into the small hole. Castiel gulped, feeling his own heart pounding behind his ribs. He couldn't help but feel a bit teased, watching the shaft moving so slowly in and out of the barrel. Taunting him with the impression of intercourse.

“You know, I think I did hear somethin'. 'Bout a broken bell,” Clyde said to Sam, his stick picking up speed, “The devil said he was in a hurry to get there. Meeting up with his band of demons or somethin' -”

“For God's sake, man! _Stop churning that butter_!” Gabriel finally snapped.

The elderly man jumped a little at Gabriel's demand, but his hands released the wooden stick. Castiel felt as if he had been broken from hypnosis; blinking repeatedly to remember where he was standing and why he was there. His organ was throbbing violently and his mind was swimming. Beside him, Dean coughed loudly. The man covered his mouth briefly with his fist, but when his arm fell back down, his hand brushed against Castiel's. The angel was electrically aware of Dean's touch, able to feel the chemicals flooding his system at the tiniest physical contact.

“Um, I think you've given us plenty of information to work with. Th – thank you for your time, Mr. Clyde, sir,” Dean stuttered, edging toward the exit and motioning everyone else to follow, “We're sorry about your nephew.”

“Yeah. Hope your butter comes out okay,” Gabriel added, waving, “Catch you on the flip-side, old-timer!”

The four of them were out of the house in a rush of blurry suit jackets and grasping hands. Dean was quick to grab Castiel by the arm just as fast as Gabriel took hold of Sam's wrist. On the wooden porch, the group instantly parted ways; Dean pulling Cas toward the barn while Sam and Gabriel stumbled toward the Impala. Castiel could clearly see the fire in Dean's eyes; the raw, sexual energy that overcame him when he craved intercourse.

“Cas and I are gonna go check out that thing in the barn,” Dean called toward his brother and the archangel, still yanking Castiel's arm.

“Yep. You go do that,” Gabriel nodded, trying his best to appear casual even though the lust was clear in his hasty body language, “The moose and I will just wait in the car for you!”

As Sam and Gabriel walked – well, perhaps _jogged_ was a more appropriate word – to the Impala, Dean and Castiel were quickly making their way toward the barn. The smell of livestock became more potent in the air as Dean pulled Castiel toward the open doors. The angel's heart was pounding, knowing that sexual contact with Dean was only seconds away. His vessel yearned desperately for it; breath quickening, heart pounding, member throbbing. He was ready for this. Castiel would always be ready for Dean.

With a hard tug inside the barn and quick spin to hide behind the large wooden door, Dean and Castiel's mouths met with furious haste. Their hands were all over each other instantly, clutching, grabbing, and clinging. Oh, Dean's mouth tasted so heavenly. The man moaned a bit behind their circling tongues, causing Cas's member to ache with yearning. Air was passing in and out quickly from their nostrils as they kissed without remorse. Twenty-four hours had taken its toll, turning their intercourse more animalistic than ever.

Behind them, the cattle and horses were becoming restless, kicking at the stable doors, neighing, mooing, running; perhaps trying to alert the owner that there were strangers in the barn. But Dean and Castiel were too consumed by each other to notice the animals. The angel could feel the man's hard organ pressing against his thigh, grinding against him longingly. Castiel took the time to reach down and cup Dean's genital region to get a clearer assessment of the man's physical state. A noise escaped Dean's throat at the touch and his pelvis thrust into the angel's palm. Dean's state was arguably worse than Castiel's. His organ was poking stiffly against his trousers, needing stimulation in the most dire way. By feeling the sheer heat of the man's erection in his hand, Castiel knew Dean needed to be serviced first.

The angel plucked his mouth from Dean's in order to drop to his knees. Castiel quickly snapped open Dean's belt and tugged his pants and undergarments back enough to release his swollen shaft. Cas had been right. Seminal fluid was already leaking from Dean's stiff organ, oozing from the tip in preparation for ejaculation. Castiel took the heated erection into his mouth at once, stimulating the sensitive member with his rolling tongue and tightening lips. Dean's hands were digging fiercely into the angel's shoulders and his tiny whimpers were mixing with the sounds of the livestock, blending seamlessly into the noisy atmosphere. But Castiel was only able to bob his head a few times before Dean backed away.

“N – no,” he panted, tugging on Cas's collar with both hands, “Cas, you – you know what I want.”

Castiel gulped, feeling his own member twitch. Yes. He did, indeed, know what Dean wanted. The man was nearly always craving it – to be penetrated by the angel's hard organ. Castiel returned to his feet at once to begin undoing his own pants. His blue eyes were glued to the man before him, watching Dean quickly slide the clothing down his bow legs. Dean's hands were visibly trembling and fumbling with the fabric, but he eventually unhooked the pants from one leg, just enough for Castiel to gain access to his backside.

While they undressed their lower halves, the angel quickly assessed their surroundings in the barn, attempting to find the most comfortable place to put Dean. Luckily, a pile of freshly laid hay was near the door. As fast as possible, Castiel wrapped his arms around Dean and dipped the man downward, quickly laying him on the soft bedding. The moment Dean was on his back, he bent his knees up toward his own chest, giving Castiel a gorgeous view of his throbbing genitals and clenching entrance. A noise of approval escaped Cas's open mouth at the mere sight. There was nothing more aesthetically pleasing than Dean's body when it was ready to fornicate.

“Dammit, Cas, what are you waiting for?” Dean huffed.

Castiel blinked himself out of his daze to notice Dean's impatience. Hoping to please him, the angel began to transfer saliva to the man's warm hole to prepare him for intercourse. But just as Castiel wiggled a finger inside, Dean smacked his hand away.

“No,” he panted, still clutching his own knees, “Forget your damn fingers! Just give it to me, Cas.”

A twinge of concern flashed through Castiel. Dean did not want to be prepared? But, if he wasn't carefully stretched open, Cas's member could have damaging effects on him. Didn't Dean know that?

“But, Dean,” Castiel protested, feeling confused, “if we do not -”

“Gnah, Cas,” Dean interrupted, rocking his backside seductively toward the angel's pelvis, “I need you, baby...”

The angel gulped harshly. It was a known fact that animals in the wild were particularly rough with their mates. At times, a male lion would have to hold the scruff of his female between his teeth during intercourse; to hold her steady while the penetration took place because it tended to be painful for her. In the wild, pain and pleasure were only separated by a faint thin line. So, when Dean requested to skip the important step of preparation in their intercourse, he was basically requesting to feel _pain_. And it concerned Castiel deeply.

“Dean,” the angel said firmly, “I don't think we should -”

Before Cas knew it, Dean was tugging on the angel's hips, guiding Castiel's erection toward his own glistening entrance. With a stern pull, Cas's erection was pressing against Dean's hot hole, causing the tip to slide barely half an inch inside. The angel blinked repeatedly and exhaled with pleasure. Oh, the feeling of Dean's tight opening was like a cure for an aliment, quenching Castiel's thirst for sexual relief.

“Ah! Cas!” Dean cried, curling up, “ _Get inside me_ , dammit! _Please_!”

How could Castiel ever refuse that begging tone? Though Dean's hole resisted him a bit, Castiel pressed on, entering Dean's body with the force that only an angel could possess. Dean's face lit up at the sensation and he sucked in a shrill gasp. His hands were clutching anything, then; Cas's clothes, his own knees, the bed of hay beneath him. Dean was in a state of pleasure that Castiel could barely comprehend.

“ _Shit_!” he exclaimed, causing the livestock to respond to his howl, “Yes! _S – son of a bitch_ , Cas! Holy _shit_!”

Castiel moaned at the sound of utter pleasure in Dean's deep voice. He hammered fiercely into the man's backside, pounding so hard that they were sliding on the bed of hay. The angel knew that this would not take long. Dean appeared on the verge of climaxing already; moans pitching higher, hands grasping, eyes flickering backward. And Castiel was close as well, only needing a few more thrusts. Wanting Dean to ejaculate with him, Cas took hold of the man's swollen erection and began to stroke it unison with his own motions. Dean groaned beautifully with this action, snapping his head back to give Castiel a lovely view of his bobbing adam's apple.

“Harder, Cas! Ah!” he moaned, voice cracking, “ _Harder_! _Faster_! I – I'm so -”

Castiel complied with Dean's urges, thrusting as hard as he could without breaking him, and suddenly felt the erection pulsing in his hand. The angel looked down in the blur of their moving bodies to see the white fluid firing from the tip of the man's shaft. Dean was convulsing – shaking, and moaning, and rocking, and begging in slurs – when Castiel embraced his own orgasm. It was flowing through the angel's vessel within seconds, causing his hips to slow and his eyes to roll around in their sockets. Semen was spouting from his own erection, filling Dean internally. The bliss was indescribable. The amount of pleasure was unfathomable. Ejaculating inside Dean was a miracle all its own...

The angel eased his hips to a complete stop and panted above Dean. Though the barn animals around them were still in a state of frenzy, Dean and Castiel were carefully calming down. The man beneath Cas was breathing just as hard, blinking lazily up at the angel as a smile twitched on his pink lips.

“You're... amazing,” he breathed, reaching up to run a shaky hand through Castiel's hair.

Castiel smiled a bit, feeling secretly prideful. The livestock serenaded them as the angel carefully removed his shrinking erection from the man's body. Dean flinched at the action and his face briefly skewed. It was normal for him to react to Castiel's maneuvering shaft. What was _not_ normal, however, was the small trace of bright red liquid painted along the angel's member. Castiel blinked down at his organ, searching the site where their bodies had been connected – and his heart filled with dread. Dean was _bleeding_. His hole was raw and red, torn slightly at the edges where he had not been properly prepared.

“Dean,” Castiel gasped, “You're bleeding.”

The man glanced briefly down between his own legs, seeing the faint red fluid on Castiel's shaft – and gave a _chuckle_.

“Oops,” he smiled.

Castiel was utterly lost. Dean was injured – bleeding, from Castiel's harsh pounding and careless precaution – but still found the situation _amusing_? Was he not hurt? Did he not care that their intercourse had physically damaged him? The angel didn't understand why Dean liked being treated so violently. Castiel didn't understand Dean's strange fondness for dominance at all...

A loud clatter broke through the barn. It was the squeak of a large door being opened. The farmer was suddenly walking in from the far side of the huge building, hobbling over to inspect his frantic animals. Dean and Castiel shared an equal glance of panic before scrambling to fix their clothing. After replacing his own pants, Castiel reached out to touch Dean's bare hip. He quickly healed the man's wounded backside before Dean pulled his pants all the way back on.

“Fly us out to the car,” he requested in an urgent whisper.

Castiel did not delay. He reached out to clutch Dean's shoulder before flying them to the Impala. They both landed in the front seat, covered in hay and smelling like livestock. There was a fast scurry in the backseat, making the car rock on its wheels. Castiel noted that all the windows were fogged and that the only sound in the car was heavy breathing. Dean and Cas both glanced back to see Gabriel and Sam sitting in the backseat with surprise, as if they'd just been caught doing something inappropriate. They were fully clothed, now, but the angel could tell that Sam and Gabriel had just engaged in sex. Just like Dean and Castiel...

There was an awkward silence that seemed to stretch on for a moment, in which everyone glanced around with discomfort while their breathing slowed. After what seemed like several minutes, Sam finally broke the embarrassing tension.

“Bobby called,” he informed causally, speaking as if he had no knowledge that anyone had just fornicated.

Dean cleared his throat and tossed a glance toward Castiel before replying.

“What did he say?”

“He says 'The Broken Bell' is the name of a dock on Lake Michigan, and that he'll meet us there,” Sam answered.

“Well,” Dean sighed, reaching for the key in the ignition, “looks like it's gonna be a long drive, then. You think that motel near the river still has a ban on us, Sammy? Or do you think they'll let us stay there again?”

“Motel?” Gabriel repeated with disgust, “You think I'm gonna let this nice pair of antlers sleep in another roach motel? I don't think so, pal. As long as I'm around, we're gonna be hitting up the five-star joints, okay? So, pluck all the hay out of your clothes and look presentable, for dad's sake, and lets get this show on the road.”

Castiel could see a hint of awe in Dean's expression. It was almost too subtle to detect, but Cas could see it there, lingering in his green eyes as he stared thoughtfully at Gabriel through the rear view mirror. Castiel was glad to see that Gabriel was making a better impression on Dean. Perhaps now, Dean was seeing through Gabriel's false mask to the caring protector that was hidden beneath.

“Alright, blondie,” Dean shrugged, “but you're putting up the cash for it.”

“Deal,” Gabriel grinned slyly.

* * *

Castiel caressed Dean's bare back, tracing his fingertips along the man's muscular spine. The angel could feel Dean's lungs expanding and retracting slowly beyond his warm skin, calm and steady. Dean was sleeping soundly tonight without erotic dreams or nightmares to stir him from his slumber. The man's lovely mouth was slightly open and his face was expressionless. The definition of relaxation. Still, even while he was in a subconscious state, Dean's arm was drawn loosely around Castiel's torso, clinging to the angel without being aware of it.

Castiel assumed that the long day of driving had exhausted Dean. By the time they arrived at a hotel near the lake – a hotel which Gabriel had chosen, based on its close proximity to the local doughnut shop – it was nightfall and Dean was already yawning. Their sexual interlude in the barn must have been enough to satisfy him for the rest of the evening, because he made no indications that he wanted to have sex again. Dean and Castiel – Sam and Gabriel, and Bobby, too – simply checked into their own rooms. Dean fell asleep almost as soon as his head rested upon a pillow.

It left the angel next to him to dwell on his own thoughts. Again, Castiel was thinking about Dean's strange longing for dominance. The angel couldn't understand why the man wanted pain and delighted in the notion of being subjugated. Worry was weighing heavily on Castiel's mind, remembering the sight of faint blood on their bodies after intercourse. Cas never wanted to harm Dean. It was the last thing he would ever do... But what if Dean _wanted_ to be harmed? The angel blinked harshly toward the wall across the room, making his fingers draw to a stop. Perhaps Cas needed to speak with someone on this matter... Someone with more experience in the field of sexual interactions...

Castiel tilted his head downward to place an affectionate kiss on Dean's warm forehead and paused to glance over his lovely features once more, before flying gently away. The angel landed inside Sam and Gabriel's hotel room, just a few doors down from his own. Sam was asleep in his night clothes on a large bed, just like Dean a few rooms away. Gabriel was sitting in bed next to the man with his legs crossed, appearing to be doing something to Sam's head. Castiel blinked and stepped forward to inspect the archangel's workings. It appeared as though Gabriel was braiding Sam's lengthy hair with his tiny fingers... Eventually, Gabriel became aware of Castiel's presence, double-taking at him to gasp.

“Hey!” the archangel exclaimed, raking a hand quickly through the younger Winchester's hair, “What the hell, bro?! Geez, Singer was right. You really don't know how to knock, do you?”

Castiel gulped, feeling a little embarrassed. Perhaps he needed to start warning those around him about his arrival.

“My apologies,” he mumbled.

“Nice outfit,” the archangel mentioned, getting up casually from the bed.

Castiel glanced down at his own attire, which consisted of Dean's rock band t-shirt and plaid boxers, before looked back to his brother. Gabriel appeared to also be wearing Winchester clothing; Sam's loose button-up shirt. The angel dismissed their state of being, however. He didn't come here to discuss attire. Castiel came here to ask his brother for advice.

“Gabriel,” Cas began, feeling heat on his own face, “There is – there is something that I am having trouble understanding.”

“Well, that's nothing new,” the archangel scoffed, striding over to plop himself into the nearest free chair, “It took you forever just to learn how to get inside your own vessel. But look at you now, walking around in that cute little meat suit.”

“It is a personal matter,” Castiel continued, disregarding Gabriel's playful comments, “involving... intercourse.”

“ _Intercourse_? What is this, health class?” Gabriel grumbled, rolling his eyes, “Alright, just give it to me straight, Cassie. You and Pinky are having issues in the bedroom, aren't you? Is he not satisfying your needs?”

Castiel sighed heavily as he brought himself to sit in a chair opposite his angelic brother.

“Actually, I believe _I_ am the one not satisfying _his_ ,” Cas admitted, feeling guilty, “Dean craves dominance, Gabriel. He practically begs for me to overpower him. To pin him down and force him to ejaculate. And I cannot fathom why he finds it so arousing.”

“Whoa,” Gabriel said, his face contorted with disgust, “TMI, baby-bird. That shit is waaay too personal. You should _not_ be telling me any of this. Dean would flip his shit.”

“But I need to understand, Gabriel. And there is no one else I can speak with,” Castiel pleaded, “Why does he long for hostility during an act that is supposed to be loving?”

For a moment, Gabriel appeared unwilling to reply to Castiel's question. But, after stealing a glance toward Sam's sleeping form on the bed across the room, the archangel huffed in defeat. His golden eyes were back on Castiel, seeming honest and sincere.

“Dude. It's just a kink,” Gabriel replied carefully, “I'm sure you've had your fair share of dirty thoughts. That flighty little head of yours is probably chuck full of daydreams about Dean. His kink probably isn't any freakier than yours.”

Castiel took a moment to consider Gabriel's words. No, Castiel did not have any daydreams that revolved around intercourse and Dean... But the notion seemed surprisingly lovely; concocting an erotic scenario in his own mind. Perhaps the angel needed create a vision in his own head, just as Dean did in his sleep. Perhaps it would help Castiel become closer with Dean somehow.

Still, Castiel worried about his human's love of harmful things...

“Please, brother,” Cas continued, “Tell me how I can satisfy Dean's lust for dominance without hurting him. My actions caused him physical pain today. And I do not wish to harm him - ”

“You're thinking about this all wrong, little duck,” Gabriel interrupted, his golden eyes filling with playfulness again, “Just because he wants dominance, doesn't mean he wants to be beaten to death. Let's look at it this way: Are you afraid of the wrath of our father?”

Castiel gulped, recalling the unparalleled power of God's cosmic glory. “Yes.”

“Okay. Well, has daddy ever laid a hand on you?” the archangel asked.

“No,” Castiel answered, unable to remember his father physically touching him in any way.

“Exactly,” the archangel smirked, “But you're still scared shit-less of him, aren't you? That's because he uses _words_.”

“Words?”

“Yep. Words. He's got ten whole commandments that everybody's supposed to follow, remember? Rules that you _have_ to follow or _else_. They are _commandments_ , Cassie. If that's not a dominant word, then I don't know what is.”

Castiel blinked toward the table between them, allowing the information to settle amongst his thoughts. It was true that God demanded the discipline of men through his holy word – but it was a discipline created out of _love_. The same discipline Dean found to be erotic in a way Castiel couldn't comprehend...

“So, the type of dominance Dean requires is not a physical action,” the angel concluded, “but rather, the continuous shifting of discipline and affection by the use of words?”

Gabriel blinked as well, seeming confused.

“Um, sure. Let's go with that,” he answered carefully.

Castiel felt enlightened at this new discovery. It seemed like such a simple notion to him now, that the best way to show dominance was to bark orders and make commandments rather than treat someone with hostility. Just as Castiel looked back up to thank his brother, he noticed that the archangel was wearing a strange expression. Cas tilted his head toward Gabriel, sensing that the archangel needed to ask a question.

“What is it, brother?” the angel urged, wanting to help.

“Well... I know it's kinda personal,” Gabriel mumbled, “but, have you ever flashed yourself to Dean during sex, Castiel? I mean, your _real_ self. With all the bells and whistles... and wings...”

The younger angel could see the vulnerability in his brother's eyes. Cas could tell that this question was linked to a deeper curiosity. Perhaps Gabriel wanted to know because he was planning to do the same thing with Sam. Perhaps he was gathering enough information to make a decision. Castiel thought back to the first night he ever displayed his celestial form to Dean during intercourse and cringed internally.

“Yes,” Castiel answered simply, recalling his guilt, “and I unknowingly broke both of his wrists in the process.”

A look of surprise briefly crossed the archangel's face, followed by a hint of disappointment. Gabriel nodded with discouragement and sighed loudly. It appeared as though Castiel's answer had caused him to make a difficult decision.

“I knew it was dangerous,” he mumbled, “But, man. He really wants it, though. And I hate breaking his heart...”

“You mean Sam?” Castiel asked, curious.

Gabriel blinked up at Cas, seeming to realize that he had spoken out loud. The archangel shook his head at once and waved a dismissing hand.

“Nevermind me,” he said, his grin flashing back, “Don't you have a Winchester to woo? Dean's all alone in this hotel somewhere, just waiting to be dominated.”

Castiel allowed a smile to spread over his lips as he rose to his feet. The gratitude he was feeling toward his brother in that moment couldn't possibly be put into words. Castiel was incredibly honored to have the pleasure of discussing personal issues with Gabriel.

“Thank you, Gabriel. Your advice has been most helpful,” he said truthfully.

The archangel smirked and suddenly held out his fist, hovering it toward Castiel.

“Celestials before terrestrials?” he asked, his eyebrows bouncing.

Castiel blinked toward his brother's fist in confusion. What did that statement mean? And why was Gabriel holding up his hand like that? The archangel waited for a moment before groaning loudly.

“Ugh. Just say it and bump my fist,” he requested, sounding weary.

Though Castiel was still a bit confused, he balled his hand into a fist before bumping it timidly against the archangel's.

“Celestials before terrestrials..?” Cas repeated.

“Thatta boy,” Gabriel winked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hehe. I figured that since Dean and Sam had a little brotherly chat, Cas and Gabe needed to have one too. I'm sorry if Gabriel's mention of God in reference to dominance offended any of you. I just thought that relating to their father would be the easiest thing for an angel to understand. ;) And if you're like Dean, and you're currently the bottom of your sexual relationship, I beg you: Please use lube! That stuff saves lives. lol. ;) Thank you guys sooo much for reading and commenting on this story! I'm so glad you like the separate POVs! :) The next chapter will be out soon!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains gun violence and child endangerment. (But, as usual, the Winchesters save the day, so never fear.) Also, porn. ;) Reader discretion is advised.

A cool breeze caressed Dean's bare back, making a shiver rattle through his whole body. He was still half asleep with his face buried into the side of a soft pillow and arms thrown limply across the huge mattress. In an effort to squeeze as many hours of rest in as he could, Dean lazily felt around for Cas next to him, knowing that the angel's body heat would warm him up and ease him back to sleep.

But his hand only grasped empty sheets.

Dean opened his eyes at once – which was a huge mistake, because he was instantly blinded with morning sunlight from the window – before blinking repeatedly toward the open space next to him. Just as he feared, the only things on the bed with him were sheets and pillows, just like the old days before he was with Cas. Dean raised his head and rubbed his eyes, feeling a little abandoned. Dammit. Would it kill Cas to stay in one spot for longer than a few freakin' hours? Did it really bore him that much to wait for Dean to wake up? Where did he go, anyway? The man huffed a breath and forced himself to sit up in bed.

“Cas?” Dean prayed out loud as he wiped the sleep from his eyes.

“Dean.”

Dean had just woken up from a nice long eight-hour sleep, so he wasn't fully coherent yet. And it took him a second to register that he just heard Cas's low voice drift from across the room. Dean's eyes eventually wandered toward the lovely sound to search for the angel – and the sight of him caught Dean completely off guard.

Cas was standing like a stone in the middle of the hotel room, shoulders broad and fingers curled into loose fists. He was nearly naked too, creamy skin and perky nipples exposed for the world to see. The only piece of clothing on his entire body was a pair of lacy black underwear. Dean blinked toward the angel's crotch, studying the fabric drawn tightly over his bulging junk. Wait, Dean knew those panties. Wasn't that the thong that Gabriel had given him as an apology gift for ruining the Impala? The man gulped, letting his eyes slowly wander all the way up Cas's gorgeously bare torso to his angelic face. Their eyes met at last and Dean could see the power glowing in Cas's blue eyes.

“Get up.”

The words fell out of the angel's mouth and thudded in Dean's ears like boulders. Oh, Dean knew that Cas was using his demanding tone. His _dominant_ tone. Was Cas trying to get a boner started in Dean's underwear this morning? _Already_? A grin was working it way across Dean's lips when he carefully tossed back the sheets and slid to the edge of the bed. He couldn't help but think that the best way to start the day was _not_ by going for a stupid jog or eating a healthy breakfast. No, the best way to start any day was to be bossed around by an angel in a thong...

“Well, good morning, Mighty Mouse,” Dean smirked, standing up to step closer to Cas.

The man was reaching out to wrap the angel into a hug when Cas slapped his arms away away. It was a quick swing of his hand, hard enough to make Dean's arms fall limply to his sides, yet gentle enough to barely touch him. Dean blinked strangely at Cas's baby blues, wondering why he didn't want a 'good morning' hug. But it slowly sank in as they shared an intense stare – that Cas was putting on a dominant act solely for Dean's enjoyment.

“Don't move,” the angel warned, his harsh tone sending an electric pulse to straight to Dean's dick.

Dean did as he was instructed, all but holding his breath as Cas stared him down. The man wondered if Cas had been planning this all night; laying there wide awake next to Dean, just plotting out how he was going to get him hard the next day. Because it was working. This amazing 'do-as-I-say' thing Cas was acting out was turning Dean on like never before.

The angel was slowly edging forward, taking deliberate steps to walk a slow circle around Dean. The man swallowed harshly again, feeling like a school boy being appraised by a strict teacher. Oh God, wasn't that every man's fantasy? To be punished by a school teacher? Hmm, maybe Cas would spank him with a ruler, too. As Cas carefully rounded him, Dean stole a glance at the angel's backside. Cas's pale round cheeks were heavenly, shifting seductively against one another with each of his steps. Dean could feel the jolts of arousal shooting faster toward his own crotch just from the mere sight of Cas's bare ass. In the back of his mind, Dean made a quick mental note to thank Gabriel for the thong.

The angel stepped to face Dean again and his large blue eyes rolled all over the man's torso. Dean's heart was already pounding, flooding his body with adrenaline and lust. Cas leaned forward a tiny bit, just enough to position his lips less than an inch from Dean's. They were sharing the same hot breath then, eying each others' faces in close range. Shit, Dean wished Cas would just smother him with that angelic tongue...

“Get on your knees,” the angel said, his voice low and severe.

Dean's legs basically gave out at Cas's statement, making him fall to his knees the instant he was told to do so. He couldn't help it. His body was always ready to follow Cas's commands, never able to deny that stark tone. Dean looked at Cas's body from this low level, eying the angel's tense flat stomach and, of course, the protruding bulge of his black thong. Dean's heart pounded faster, knowing that Cas's hot cock was hidden just beyond that thin layer of lace fabric... The man blinked up at the angel's face, waiting to hear his next command.

“Prepare me, Dean,” Cas instructed.

Dean felt lightheaded at Cas's voice, loving the way it rolled down his entire spine. But he was kind of confused. What the hell did 'prepare me' mean? Dean knew – well, he at least _hoped_ – that they were about to have sex. So, what exactly was Cas asking for?

“Prepare you?” Dean repeated, at a loss.

Cas didn't reply to Dean's stupid question. Instead, the angel reached down to grab the thin hem of his black thong. Dean could feel his own body reacting as he watched Cas pull the fabric down, letting his angelic dick tumble out from the shimmering lace. Dean's mouth fell open to let the air escape his lungs. Geez, how did the sight of Cas's cock make his own stand straight up? Suddenly, it all made sense. Cas's dick was still limp. Which meant he was demanding Dean to harden it...

Before being with Cas, Dean found the idea of putting a dick in his mouth to be gross. Because, really, who wants to suck on the same organ that piss comes out of? Not to mention that everybody's junk has a smell; a certain odor that your breath would probably smell like afterward. Thoughts like these always prevented Dean from even considering putting a cock anywhere near his face.

But, again, that was _before_ Cas. With Cas, the notion was completely different. Dean could feel himself practically jumping up and down on the inside just to get near the angel's dick, limp or not. And, honestly, giving Cas a blow job was more of a privilege than a chore. There was only one person in the entire universe that Cas had ever given his body to. And Dean was honored to be that one person...

After flashing a grin up at the angel's hard face, Dean leaned forward to lick a line straight up his dick. The skin was still loose and Dean's rough tongue slightly tugged on it. But Cas's cock responded almost instantly, giving a twitch to signal its approval. Dean could feel his own dick starting to throb as he opened his mouth to swallow the tip of Cas's. The angel was doing a damn good job of staying in character – face expressionless and body unmoving – but Dean knew for a fact that Cas was enjoying this. Who wouldn't love having their cock massaged in the mouth of their lover?

In no time, Dean was bobbing his head, feeling Cas's dick growing warmer and harder in his mouth. The man's drool was already sliding down the angel's cock to drip from his tense balls. Dean found himself humming around Cas's erection as he sucked it, wanting so bad to reach down and service his own. But he clutched Cas's hips instead, because he knew that sex was probably on the way. Preparing Cas for it was just the first part.

“Look at me,” the angel demanded.

Dean flashed his emerald eyes up at Cas instantly as he licked around the tip. It wasn't long before the angel had a genuine erection. Dean could could feel Cas's cock throbbing against his tongue with every bob of his head. And, eventually, Cas reached down to run his fingers against the top of Dean's scalp, pausing the man's hard work. Cas's dick was thick and glistening now, as Dean slid his lips from it. He panted as he blinked up at Cas, feeling wet spit running down his own chin. Was Cas 'prepared,' now? Did Dean do a good job? Was it time to have sex?

With a sudden rustle of wings, the angel was gone. Dean blinked into the open hotel room, panting breathlessly.

“Come over here, Dean.”

The man spun around on his knees at the sound of Cas's voice. The angel was laying on the bed now, looking like a feast laid before a king. His bare chest rose and fell with his breathing while his wet dick pointed straight toward the heavens. Dean ached just looking at Cas's naked aroused body. The sight of it alone had the potential to make Dean come where he was kneeling.

At the angel's beckoning call, Dean scrambled to his feet in rush and dashed toward the bed like an animal being set free from a cage. On the way, he was pulling his own underwear down his legs to kick them off. Dean's erection wobbled out in the open as he climbed onto the bed with his angel, grinning the whole time. Oh, _hell_ yeah. Dean was so ready to have that hard angelic dick inside him again. God, he could practically feel his ass clenching for it already...

“Stop,” the angel demanded, holding Dean's arm steady next to him.

The man did as he was told, pausing on the bed. Cas's sapphire eyes were full of determination as he reached a finger toward Dean's face. The angel wiped some of the excess drool from Dean's chin, scooping it up with his finger, before lowering it toward the man's legs. Dean watched Cas's finger disappear between them but felt it against him seconds later. Cas was rubbing the wet spit against Dean's hole, moistening it and prying it loose.

Dean's thighs were trembling as he felt Cas readying him. Son of a bitch, Dean hated being teased like this. Just like in the barn the day before, Dean felt like this part was taking too long. It was stupid to use fingers when Cas's cock could just slide in. Dean didn't care if it tore him open a little. Cas could just heal him later. But it seemed like Cas genuinely cared about getting him ready. The angel was stretching Dean's hole slowly – _annoyingly_ slowly – and wasn't going to stop until he felt confident with its flexibility.

Eventually, and not a moment too soon, Cas plucked his finger back out of Dean's ass. The angel raised one of the man's legs and pulled it across his torso, literally making Dean straddle him. Dean was resting on his knees when Cas raised up enough to position his wet dick against the man's ass. Shit, Dean could feel the moist head of it _right there_ , just barely teasing his hole... Afterward, Cas laid flat against the bed and let his arms fall to his sides. The angel's sapphire eyes were boring into Dean then, practically glaring up at him.

“Bounce,” he commanded.

A tiny whimper escaped Dean's mouth before he could stop it. Oh, God, Cas sounded so damn _sexy_ when he talked like that. Dean carefully started bouncing, reaching back to clutch Cas's bent knees while he rocked his pelvis up and down. He groaned out loud as he felt Cas's hot cock sliding in and out of him. Shit, there was no sensation on earth like it. No other experience he could compare it to. Having Cas fill him up was overwhelming in a way he couldn't explain.

“Ah,” the man panted, rocking harder.

Cas's mouth was open, allowing air to pass in and out while he panted, but his dominant face was unwavering. His eyes followed Dean's, staring the man down and making him feel like a naughty child. And Dean was moaning for Cas, letting out cries with every single bounce. He knew for a fact that Cas was enjoying this. The angel was gently thrusting into Dean as he moved, showing that he wanted to come just as much.

“ _Cas_ ,” Dean huffed with pleasure, his hands falling forward to brace on the angel's bare heaving chest, “B – baby... _please_...”

Dean wasn't exactly sure what he was begging for. Maybe he was just begging Cas to never stop; begging for Cas to pound into into him until his legs shook and his vision blurred. But Cas seemed to take his whimper to heart. Without missing a beat, the angel reached up to take Dean's drooling erection in his firm hand and started to stroke. Raw pleasure exploded in Dean's body like a fireworks display, making his moans pitch higher and his ass bounce faster.

“Say... my name,” the angel panted in a harsh tone, eyes fiercer than ever.

“ _Castiel_!” Dean exclaimed, feeling orgasm swelling up in his bouncing balls, “ _Gnah_! _Cas_! Son of a _bitch_!”

Dean came in a rush, semen shooting out of the tip of his cock like gunfire while Cas pounded into him. The continuous stimulation, both inside him and out, made his orgasm last a few nice long seconds. All Dean could really do while it happened was seize up and repeat Cas's name like a mantra over and over in hushed whimpers. _Cas_ , _Castiel_ , _Cas, Cas_...

After blinking himself awake from his orgasm, Dean's blurry eyes caught sight of the angel beneath him. Cas was still hammering away, giving Dean's ass absolute hell. But the dominant look on his face had disappeared, leaving the only wide-eyed innocent angel that Dean had fallen in love with. As he reached the edge of his own orgasm, Cas looked more like himself than he had all morning.

“D – Dean,” he whimpered, shoving harder into the man's ass, “I – I'm...”

Dean tried his best to help Cas have an amazing orgasm, clenching around his angelic dick and bouncing as much as possible. And Dean watched it happen on Cas's face – blue eyes fluttering shut, mouth gasping open, eyebrows curving upward. Cas was shuddering in no time, twitching underneath Dean while his dick spurted in the man's ass. At this point, Dean didn't really mind having Cas come inside him. He could hardly feel it and, to be honest, he thought it was kind of hot...

Cas's hips eventually slowed to a stop, letting Dean rest in his lap as he fell flat against the bed again. Dean was blinking lazily down at the angel, unsure of what to do or say. Hell, he had only been awake for ten whole minutes and had already experienced a massive orgasm. Dean's mind was understandably mushy. All he could really do was catch his breath – and watch Cas raise his hand to his mouth to lick the come from his fingers. Dean ached on the inside, watching the angel eat his semen. God, what was it about Cas licking Dean's come from his own fingers that turned him on so much?

“Did you enjoy that, Dean?” Cas asked, sounding like an innocent kid seeking praise from a role model.

Dean smirked a little, still astounded at how fast Cas could switch from 'badass' to 'sweetheart' in less than a minute. The man tipped forward to hover over the angel's face, close enough to plant their lips together. Their kiss tasted a little bit like come, but Dean didn't care. His tongue didn't hold back at all. It ran circles in Cas's mouth. Hell yes, Dean enjoyed that. When it came to having sex with Cas, there wasn't much Dean didn't enjoy...

Just as their embrace deepened, Dean's cell phone broke the silence.

The man reluctantly raised his head to look toward the direction the sound was coming from. For a brief moment, Dean was paranoid enough to think that Gabriel had been spying on them and wanted to ruin their moment by calling just to piss him off. But after listening to the phone ring again, Dean was convinced that it had to be Sam or Bobby. Because if Gabriel really wanted to ruin a moment, he would have done something a lot more drastic than a simple phone call.

After huffing in aggravation, Dean forced himself to crawl off of his angel and head toward his discarded pants. The phone was ringing again when he found it in his pocket. He didn't even take the time to look at the ID. Dean just flipped it open and answered it.

“Yeah?” Dean asked, stealing a glance toward Cas's naked body.

“I've been to the dock and it's completely empty. But from the looks of it, this place is crawlin' with demons,” Bobby sighed, not even bothering to say hello, “I know our policy is to kill on sight, but I reckon we should try catchin' a demon and talkin' to it. Maybe interrogate our way to the location of that 'devil' fella.”

Dean blinked, trying to get his mushy brain to start working again.

“Uh, okay,” he replied carefully, “I'm sure it wouldn't be hard for the angels to do that. Where should we start?”

“Honestly? Just drive around town,” Bobby said grimly, “I'm pretty sure I passed two on the way to the doughnut shop this mornin'.”

Dean huffed. Great. Just what every town needs – a nice demon infestation. The man peered toward the naked angel on the bed again to look over Cas's bare stomach and tight chest and softening dick all covered in come just one more time. Dean knew that he wouldn't get to see this sight for a while and he wasn't going to waste the opportunity to soak it all in now, dammit.

“Alright,” Dean said into the phone, “But I'm gonna need to get dressed first.”

Bobby's sigh was long and weary.

“'course you do,” he mumbled, probably shaking his head.

* * *

The Impala rolled to a stop at a red light, her engine growling and black metal glistening in the sun. The whole crew was in the car again; Dean driving, Cas beside him, and Sam and Gabriel in the backseat. None of them had really spoken to each other yet, which was understandable. It was still pretty early in the morning and they were all kind of lost to their own thoughts... Especially Cas.

Dean glanced side-ways at the angel sitting next to him, staring at his closed eyes. Yes, Cas's eyes were actually _closed_ , hiding the ocean blue that Dean loved so much. And the strangest part was that Cas's eyes had been closed for at least fifteen minutes. The angel's face was expressionless as always, lips and eyebrows in straight lines. What the hell was he doing? Sleeping? Meditating? Dean loudly cleared his throat in an attempt to wake Cas up. But it failed. Cas was currently blocking out everything; Gabriel's witty comments, the case involving kids... even Dean...

As the light turned green above the car, Dean felt a twinge of worry in his gut similar to the one he felt whenever Sam flashed goo-goo eyes at Gabriel. He could feel it with Cas, too – that some strange distance was trying to grow between them. But, how could something like that happen to them? Cas loved spending time with Dean, didn't he? They had fun together, right? Did Cas need some alone time or something? Why was he trying to separate himself by closing his eyes and getting lost in his head?

“Is there a concert in town?” Gabriel asked from the backseat, breaking Dean from his thoughts, “because I think I just saw the Black-Eyed Peas.”

For a second, Dean thought the archangel was just rambling nonsense. But then he realized that Gabriel was talking about black-eyed _demons_. Dean's game face was instantly activated at this discovery and his head spun to look out all the windows. There were people crowded all over the streets. Which group was Gabriel referring to?

“Where?” Dean asked.

Gabriel lunged forward in the car to jut his index finger toward the windshield. Dean and Cas – who had finally snapped out of his daze – followed the direction Gabriel was pointing. Near the corner of the street, three men and a woman were quickly heading south; eyes darting around suspiciously, shoulders hunched, and feet moving in a blur. They looked like they were on a mission...

…and heading straight for the daycare center across the street.

“ _Shit_ ,” Sam breathed from the backseat, barely audible.

Dean slammed his foot to the gas pedal at once, hauling ass toward the demons on the corner. He was suddenly acting on impulse, giving his body over to his basic instincts. The sight of the daycare center woke up the hunter within him. The Impala raced toward the four demons and streaked through another lane of traffic to plow its way over a grassy area. The demons had already caught sight of the warhorse barreling for them, however, and they were running for the building doors like bats out of hell.

Dean tried to remain calm under pressure, doing his best to fishtail the Impala's ass around into the parking lot. The man slammed the breaks and the car squealed to a halt in near the entrance of the building. The car was evacuated within seconds; men and angels darting out every exit to race toward the daycare doors. The demons had already burst inside and a few screams and gunshots were echoing onto the street. Sam's long legs gave him the advantage, letting him lead the way inside.

Dean followed his brother and the angels into the building, where they stopped short in the entry way. Two women were already laying dead on the floor, both shot in the head. Dean presumed that they were workers for the daycare center, going by their matching outfits. At least twenty kids, all under the age of eight, were running around and screaming at the top of their lungs, making it difficult for Dean to fully focus on the situation. And all four demons were spread out in the room, each one clutching a child and holding the kids up like a human shields.

“Stay where you are, Winchesters,” one of them called, looking like he was prepared to snap the neck of the kid in his hands.

For a split second, Dean was zooming through the options in his mind, playing out different scenarios. If he ran toward them, could Dean make it there before the demon killed the kid? If he threw Ruby's knife fast enough, would it hit the demon instead of the child? If Sam somehow caused a distraction, would Dean be able to sneak up and stab it in the back?

Luckily, Dean didn't have to act out any of these scenarios. Because the kid suddenly vanished from the demon's hands. Dean and the demon both blinked toward the open space, each just as confused as the other. Suddenly, _every_ kid was vanishing from the room, one-by-one. First, the ones from the demon's hands, then kids from under the tables and huddled groups were popping away. It wasn't until Dean saw that the angels were both gone that he realized – Gabriel and Cas were flashing around the room to move the kids.

“They're putting them in the closet,” Sam breathed, suddenly darting toward it, “I'll stay with the kids, Dean.”

Dean watched him go, feeling relieved. Knowing that Sam was going to be with the kids made him feel better because it meant his brother would be just as safe as they were. It was apparent that the demons didn't realize that the Winchesters would have angels with them. The black-eyed creatures were all suddenly backing up and glancing at each other with concern. Dean carefully pulled out Ruby's knife from his waistband and clutched it tightly in his grasp. It felt good to see the fear in the demon's eyes and know that they were beaten before the game had even started. Cas and Gabriel flashed back on either side of Dean, both holding angel blades.

“Well, if it isn't the worst band of demons in history,” Gabriel smirked, flashing a glance at Dean, “See what I did there, Pinky? Band of demons? Black-Eyed Peas?”

Dean tried his best to hold down a glare. Did Gabriel _really_ have to make shitty jokes right now?

“Here's how this is going to work,” Dean said, using the darkest voice he could muster as he eyed each demon down, “You're going to tell me who your boss is and where we can find him, or I'll let these angels smite your asses into baby powder.”

Dean was almost certain that his deal was full-proof; that at least one of the demons would come clean after hearing their fates. But as soon as his offer was on the table, the demons scattered, dashing away in any direction. The angels were gone from Dean's sides again. Cas popped up in front of the demon near the door and Gabriel appeared behind two heading for the back room. Bright lights and screams filled the room,as the angels raised their hands to smite their victims.

In the haze, Dean caught sight of the last demon trying to scramble toward the nearest window. The hunter quickly clutched his knife and ran to grab the demon by the back of his shirt. Dean spun the creature around to slam it against the wall, holding the sharp edge of his knife underneath its chin.

“Who are you working for?!” Dean demanded, sick of waiting for an answer.

The demon's mouth suddenly opened – and black smoke began billowing out from inside. Dammit, no! The demon was fleeing! Why the hell were these assholes trying to get away instead of giving him a straight answer?! Before Dean could get too pissed, the smoke was suddenly going back inside the demon's mouth. The man blinked, wondering why it seemed like the smoke was being forced back in.

Then, Cas was standing next to Dean. The angel's arm was jutting straight out and his eyes were glowing blue. Cas was literally shoving the demon back into its vessel with his celestial power. Dean gulped, his sight flashing from Cas's electric sapphire eyes to the demon in front of him. Holy shit, Cas was a beautiful, powerful, sexy, God-like badass. Dean was undeniably turned on.

“Answer his question,” Cas commanded, his tone reaching all the way to Dean's dick.

The demon was huffing and writhing under the angel's grip, but he wasn't speaking. It looked like Cas was applying pressure of some kind because his glowing hand was shining brighter and his fingers were curling. But the asshole just wouldn't speak. The demon was holding in grunts of pain but not saying a word.

“Just spit it out, you sulfur-sniffing cockroach!” Gabriel suddenly shouted, seeming just as irritated.

“Kill me,” the demon finally spat, glaring at the archangel, “If you don't, he will. I'm dead either way.”

“The difference between us and your boss is that we'll make it quick,” Dean assumed, “Now, tell us where we can find -”

As Dean pointed his blade toward the demon's chest, the thing lunged forward – impaling itself on Ruby's knife. Dean watched the light flicker out of its eyes, feeling a small gasp escape his own lips. The demon had just killed itself! Why the hell would a demon commit suicide?! The lifeless body slowly slipped off the end of the blade and crumbled into a heap on the floor. Cas's angelic light faded away as he let his hand drop to his side. The angels seemed just as surprised as Dean.

“Never seen that before,” Gabriel mumbled, “His boss must be a real prick.”

The archangel's statement made a lot of sense. In the back of his mind, Dean had been assuming that Crowley was behind all of this. And now that he had just witnessed a demon choose death over returning to the service of its master, Dean was beginning to think that maybe Crowley was going dark. Darker than he had ever been. Why else would he be killing children and striking fear into the hearts of his minions? What kind of power was Crowley getting drunk on this time?

As Dean and the angels stood around in shock, the tiny squeak of a door filled the room. Dean turned around to see Sam poking his head out of the closet a few feet away. Sammy seemed to survey the scene – eying the dead bodies all over the floor – before hesitantly opening the door.

“Okay, come on. Just don't look around, okay? Go straight outside,” he said, ushering the kids out.

Dean dashed over to the front door to hold it open, offering the kids an escape route. They were all wearing tear-stained faces of fear, eyes wide and cheeks puffy. Dean kind of felt bad for them being scarred for life and all. But hey, at least they were all still alive.

“Come on, little man,” Dean said, to a particularly frightened little boy, “Just wait out here in the parking lot.”

Flashes of red and blue police lights were already coming up over the hill, just across the street. Maybe one of the daycare workers had called them before she was killed. Dean instructed all the kids to stay in a group on the sidewalk as he stepped back inside the building. Although they were technically on the same side, Dean and Sam never really got along with cops. He knew it would be best if they disappeared before the police showed up to find them standing around a bunch of dead bodies.

“We've gotta get out of here,” Dean said toward Cas and Gabriel, looking around, “Where's Sam?”

“Here.”

Dean spun around instantly, able to hear the tiny crack in his brother's voice. Sammy was walking out of the closet now, only he was carrying a little girl. He was cradling her close to his chest and being gentle with her. But even from a few feet away, Dean could see it. Her tiny arms and legs were hanging limply from his grasp and swaying heavily with each of his steps... _lifeless_...

A large blockage was suddenly stuck in Dean's throat as he watched his brother carry the little girl's body into the room. She must have been shot somehow, because her purple shirt and blonde hair were soaked with blood. John Winchester had taught his sons a lot of things when it came to hunting. But _this_ – having to witness the brutal death of a child and not being able to fix it; to take it back and make it right – was something that not even hunters could be prepared for.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean uttered under his breath, trying his best to swallow the lump in his throat as his eyes blurred.

Sam looked just as heartbroken as Dean, if not more. The kid was just standing there in silence, staring sadly down at the dead child in his arms. Dean wanted to comfort his brother and tell him that everything would be okay and that she was in a better place – but was she? Was she the one that the demons were after? Had her soul been collected by 'the Devil'?

Gabriel was suddenly walking toward Sam, taking soft and slow steps. Dean could see the heartache in his golden eyes and it kind of surprised him. He didn't know that the trickster was capable of feeling sorry for someone else, but it was obvious that Gabriel _did_ care. The archangel was glancing between Sam's eyes and the little girl's face as he reached up to carefully touch her blonde head.

“She's not gone yet, Sammy-boy,” Gabriel whispered, giving him a gentle smirk.

“What?” Sam asked as a tear ran down his face.

Dean glanced from Cas to the archangel, feeling a little bit of hope flicker in his chest. She wasn't dead? She was still alive? Before Dean could ask the archangel if it was true, Gabriel was leaning forward to press his lips to the little girl's temple. The lights in the room flickered and a rush of air and energy fill the space as the archangel's lips glowed against the child's head –

And the little girl's eyes suddenly fluttered open.

Sam and Dean shared a glance of astonishment as the girl took a large breath of air. Holy shit, Gabriel had just brought her back to life. They had just witnessed a freakin' miracle! But their amazement was quickly turned into confusion as they watched the little girl begin to whimper and wiggle in Sam's arms. She pushed herself out of Sam's grasp to climb to the floor, where she looked around in fright. Her blue eyes were blinking up at the strange men in horror – before they fell on Cas.

Something about the angel must of made her feel safe, because the little girl instantly dashed to him. She dove inside his trench coat to cling to one of his legs, hugging him fiercely as she buried her face into his waist. Cas glanced up at Dean with confusion, probably wondering the kid was clinging to him. But Dean didn't have an answer for the angel. To be honest, Dean was just as confused.

Why was the little girl clinging to Cas?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very sorry for writing such angst in which children are the targets, but it's gonna make for some very cute fluff in the next chapter. Especially with our little blonde girl. ;) (She is an OC, btw.) Dear Black-Eyed Peas, I respect and admire your music. All jokes made about you in this chapter were purely for entertainment purposes only. ;) And of course, I hope you enjoyed Cas taking his brother's advice. Because Dean sure did. ;) Thank you guys so much for reading and commenting! Those of you how have stuck with me through this whole story - angst and all - are my absolute favorite! *hugs* The next chapter will be out soon! :) <3


	4. Chapter 4

Dean always had a soft spot for little kids, especially ones that had been through trauma. Maybe it was because he could relate to them pretty easily, or because the pain in their little faces made his heart ache... But that didn't stop him from disliking the little girl clinging to Cas's leg. Even though he was glad Gabriel had brought her back to life and that she was okay, her actions sort of made Dean upset. She wasn't supposed to touch Cas that way; like he was someone she knew. Frankly, Dean didn't care if it was immature to be jealous of a little kid. Cas belonged to _Dean_ , not her. Who did she think she was, hugging someone that didn't belong to her? Cas seemed confused by it all, trying his best to step away from the kid.

“Um. Please let go,” the angel softly requested, trying to wiggle out of her grip.

But the more Cas moved around, the more she buried herself into his side. Dean tried his best to get rid of the weird jealous feelings that were swelling up in his chest because he knew it was fifty shades of wrong to be mad at a kid who only wanted protection. He tore his eyes away from the little blonde girl and looked up to glance around their group. It seemed like everyone was equally lost, not knowing why the little kid found Cas so interesting. Gabriel's eyebrow was arched and Sam's eyes were flickering toward the window. Dean followed his brother's line of sight to the glass – where the flash of red and blue lights finally made it to the parking lot.

Ah, shit. The cops were here. They were probably about to search the whole place from top to bottom and inevitably find Dean, Sam, Cas, and Gabriel standing around a bunch of bodies on the floor. They really needed to blow this popsicle stand before they were framed for murder. Again. Dean spun back around to share an understanding glance with his little brother. Sammy knew they were about to be in deep shit, too.

“We need to leave,” Sam said, meeting eyes with the archangel next to him, “Right now.”

Before Dean knew it, Gabriel was snapping his fingers together – and they were all suddenly standing outside. Dean blinked repeatedly in the harsh sunlight and turned around in circles to figure out where the hell the archangel had put them. It looked like he had popped them to the sidewalk one street over from the daycare center. The flashing lights and huddled kids were just across a few lanes of traffic. Dean spun back around to make sure everyone was with them – and realized that the little girl was still there. Another twinge of weird jealousy sparked in him again as he eyed the child clinging to his angel's leg. Why didn't Gabriel leave her in the daycare center to be found by the police? Why the hell was she still glued to Cas?

“Why did you bring the kid?” Dean blurted.

Poor Cas was acting like he was trying to shake off a dog that was too friendly, carefully stepping backward in the hope that the child might let go. And it made Dean feel worse because Cas was obviously uncomfortable. The little girl was whimpering with every move he made though, her tiny fingers white and trembling as she gripped his coat.

“Well, as you can see, she's kind of attached to his hip,” Gabriel said, waving a hand toward her.

Dean rolled his eyes. It didn't matter that this kid had some weird obsession with Cas. She needed to be _over there_ at the daycare center where the police were taking care of the rest of the kids. Dean reached down and gently tugged at her arm in an effort to pull her from Cas.

“Hey, you should go wait with the other kids,” he said to her, trying his best to be kind, “Come on.”

But as soon as she was removed from Cas's side, a high-pitched scream erupted from her mouth. Dean dropped her arm instantly and reached up to cover his own ears. Geez, her scream was almost as painful as hearing Cas speak for the first time. The moment she was released, the little girl threw herself at Cas again and jumped up and down, reaching her hands up like she wanted to be held. Dean could see how worried and confused Cas was but the angel picked her up anyway. His blue eyes flickered to Dean as he cradled her in his arms, looking fearful.

“She is very afraid,” the angel stated, “Perhaps if we locate her place of residence -”

A cell phone interrupted Cas's suggestion, ringing from Dean's pocket. Dean sighed heavily as he dug around for it. Why the hell did it seem like everything was happening all at once? Dean tore his eyes away from Cas's baby-blue, in order to look down at the caller ID. Seeing that it was Bobby, Dean just pressed the speaker button and held the phone in the midst of their cluster.

“Now's not really a good time, Bobby,” Dean answered grimly.

“It's never a good time,” Bobby replied, sounding kind of pissy, “How are things on your end?”

“Just peachy,” Dean spat back, glancing at the daycare center in the distance, “We ganked four demons and scarred a bunch of kids for life in the process. Not to mention Cas got stuck with a carry-on that he can't get rid of and my car is currently surrounded by bloodhound cops. Doesn't get much better than this.”

“Ugh, stop your whining, Pinky,” Gabriel grumbled, rolling his eyes, “Geez, you can be such a drama queen...”

The archangel raised a hand and snapped his fingers together – and the Impala suddenly appeared on the curb near them. Dean blinked at his car in shock, eying the shiny black hood and chrome wheels. Gabriel had 'poofed' the car over from the daycare parking lot, leaving a vacant spot in its place. Dean actually took the time to meet Gabriel's smug eyes. Okay, that was pretty cool of him to do... Bobby sighed angrily on the phone.

“Did you at least get a location before you slaughtered the bastards?” the old man asked.

“No,” Dean answered, recalling how that last one just flung itself on the end of his blade, “The sons-of-bitches wouldn't talk, Bobby.”

“Er, _language_?” Sam said, pointing to the kid in Cas's arms.

Dean gave his brother a bizarre look. Really? Dean and Sam had been using foul language ever since they learned how to talk. Now all of the sudden he had to watch his mouth? Gabriel turned to give Dean a playful glare.

“Yeah. Watch your damn mouth, asshole,” Gabe warned, sneaking Dean a wink.

Sam huffed a breath next to him, seeming unamused by his comment. Dean, on the other hand, found Gabriel's wit pretty humorous. Since when did the trickster share the same dry humor as Dean?

“Alright, ladies, that's enough,” Bobby barked, regaining their attention, “Look. I'm on the east side of the city near the highway. I just spotted a group of demons headin' into the carnival just down the road -”

“Carnival?” Sam repeated, breathlessly.

Dean looked up at his little brother at the sound of fear in the kid's voice. Anxiety was already festering in his eyes and it took Dean a moment to figure out why. Oh, that's right. Dean had almost forgotten that Sammy had a clown phobia. It was the reason they never went to carnivals or certain fast food joints. The kid was absolutely paralyzed with fear at the mention of them. Maybe it was just the creepy vibe they gave off or the fact that they always got all up in peoples' personal space that freaked him out. But whatever it was, Sam hated them unlike anything else in the world. And Dean knew it.

“They're probably here for some kids,” Bobby went on, apparently not hearing Sam's interruption, “so, I've gotta stop 'em.”

“Don't go in there alone, Bobby,” Dean warned, not wanting the old man to get hurt.

“I'm not. That's why I'm calling you,” Bobby replied, “I'm gonna keep an eye on 'em for now. They don't look like they're goin' in yet, but you and your brother need to hurry up and get here.”

Dean looked up at his little brother again, knowing that Bobby was asking for both of them. But Sam was already shaking his head, eyes the size of golf balls. Between them, Gabriel was glancing from one face to the other, looking confused. Obviously, Sam hadn't told his archangel about his greatest fear...

“We also need to tend to this child,” Cas suddenly spoke, making Dean's eyes return to him, “Perhaps I should place her in an unconscious state and leave her for the police to find -”

“You mean knock her out? On purpose?” Sam nearly gasped, “No, man. Don't do that. She's been through enough.”

Dean agreed with Cas's suggestion, mostly because he knew that the police would do a better job than they ever could of getting her home safely. Knocking her out did seem kind of hasty, but what else could they do? Plus, Bobby needed their help as soon as possible.

“We've gotta do _something_ , Sam,” Dean said, trying to convince his brother.

The hesitation was clear in Sammy's face. The kid's cheeks were growing red and his mouth was twitching with nervousness at the corners. But, dammit, Sam needed to get over his childhood fears already. Bobby needed them now. And the safest way to ditch the kid was to let Cas sing her to sleep and stash her in a cop car. Sam huffed a breath of determination, though, seeming like he wasn't going to back down.

“Look. Bobby needs backup and this kid needs to be taken home,” he pointed out, talking slowly, “So, why don't we split up? Cas and I will find this kid's house and you and Gabe can -”

“What is this? Boyfriend Swap?” Dean snapped instantly, feeling raw emotion flowing through his veins, “No, dammit. Sam, why don't you just come with me and let the angels -”

“Dean. You _know_ why I can't do it,” Sam said slowly again, giving him at stern look.

Sam's refusal kind of pissed Dean off. Was the guy really gonna let his fear of freakin' _clowns_ get the best of him? Dean knew that his brother didn't want to say the words out loud but, for the love of God, Sam needed to get the hell over it.

“Really, Sam? You're still _that_ afraid of clowns?” Dean spat, watching the embarrassment flood his brother's face, “But you're _screwing_ one, for cryin' out loud!”

It was true. Gabriel was the biggest clown Dean knew and it made zero sense that Sam would fear the same thing that he loved. It also took Dean a second to realize that he just blurted his little brother's secret in front of Gabriel. The archangel's eyes were already widening with surprise and enjoyment as he turned to look up at Sam, whose face was blood-red.

“Y – you're afraid of clowns, peach?” Gabe asked quietly, looking like he might burst into a fit of giggles, “Aww, moose-cakes, that's so cute!”

“I agree with Sam.”

Dean's eyes flashed toward Cas, who was still holding the little girl in his arms. A wave of discomfort washed over the man when he saw the apologetic honesty in the angel's eyes. Cas really agreed with Sam? He wanted to split up, too? But why? The question must have been written in the man's face because Cas he began to speak again, talking in a low comforting tone that Dean adored.

“Dean, I know that you wish for all of us to stay together,” the angel said, able to read him like a book, “but it seems that we have no choice but to divide. Only for a short time. Sam and I will find this child's home as quickly as possible so that we can reunite. You and Gabriel should aid Bobby until then.”

For some reason, it felt like sharp knives were slowly slicing into certain parts of Dean's heart. Ever since he saw Cas's closed eyes in the Impala, Dean had been thinking that maybe the angel wanted some distance. That maybe Cas wanted some time away from Dean. And now, it seemed like he was literally asking for it. Maybe Cas had finally realized that hanging out with Dean wasn't all that great and that there were better things to invest his time in, like meeting women and getting involved in a better relationship – and having kids.

Dean's watery eyes slowly flickered to the the back of the little girl's blonde head and he suddenly felt like a total asshole. He felt so terrible for hating her. Because he finally realized that he didn't hate _her_. He hated _the idea_ of her. The idea that Cas would make the best father in the world. And it killed Dean to know that it was the one thing he could never really give Cas. Dean could never give his angel the apple-pie life that he deserved; a perfect car, a perfect house, a perfect _child_. And, dammit, it was such a shame. Because Cas looked so damn good with a kid in his arms...

Dean's blurry eyes flashed back to Cas's face as he felt a touch on his cheek. The angel was cupping the side of Dean's face all of the sudden, forcing him to look back into his eyes. It was apparent that Cas could see the pain in Dean's stare because his own eyes were full of comfort and affection. Dean could only blink at the sapphires, too upset to even speak.

“I will return to you, Dean,” Cas promised, whispering it like an oath, “I will always return to you.”

Dean's heart was throbbing with emotion as he lost himself in Cas's eyes. There wasn't a single trace of falsity in them. No matter how much Dean tried to push him away – no matter how many times Dean tried to give the angel the chance to make the right decision, to let Cas find someone that could give him more than Dean ever could – Cas always came back. Part of Dean hated the fact that Cas was always giving up everything – his home, his family, even _kids_ – just to be with him. But the other part was so glad to hear those words come out of the angel's mouth and know that Cas still loved his sorry ass against all odds...

The two of them were suddenly kissing, eyes closed and lips pressed together in the middle of the sidewalk. Dean could feel the little girl wiggling between them as their torsos met. It only lasted a few seconds, just long enough for Cas to drive his message home. And Dean received it loud and clear. Yes, Cas was going to be back. Cas would always come back, whether Dean thought it was bad for him or not.

“If you're gonna join the baby-sitters club, then you're gonna need these.”

Cas stepped back and turned toward Gabriel, giving Dean a clear sight of the archangel handing Sam a dog and a book. The two of them kissed too, which left Dean's face to glow red and make his eyes dart around with discomfort. Ugh. He really hated watching Sam and Gabe do that shit.

“Castiel,” Gabriel said, stepping back to give Cas a stern look, “You better keep an eye on my moose, okay? If he so much as chips an antler while I'm gone, I'm blaming you.”

Cas's blue eyes were on his angelic brother and they were holding nothing but seriousness.

“Watch over Dean as well,” he requested, making Dean feel even more loved.

Dean blinked toward his angel again, trying to memorize the sight of him cradling the little girl in his arms. Her face was buried into Cas's shoulder, her tiny arms were tight around his neck, and he was holding her with a gentleness that rivaled a mother's embrace. It was a beautiful thing to see. But gut-wrenchingly painful to look at... Gabriel huffed a breath at Dean's side.

“Do you think we can ride the Ferris wheel while we're there, Pinky?” he asked, hovering his hand over Dean's shoulder.

The man grumbled out loud at Gabriel's comment. Did the trickster always have to ruin the moment?

“Just shut your beak and start flying,” Dean spat.

The archangel's hand came down firmly on Dean's shoulder – and they were suddenly standing somewhere else. The sweet smell of candy apples and fresh funnel cakes were heavy in the air, now. And the sound of merry-go-round music was close by. Dean blinked around at his new location, trying to get a grip. People were passing by, loud games were being played, cotton candy was being eaten, rides were being ridden... They were at the carnival, alright. Dean coughed and shook his head in an attempt to rid his head of the painful thoughts haunting him.

“Where's Bobby?” Dean asked, looking to Gabriel.

It was around this point that a loud grunt echoed from the phone in Dean's hand. Both he and the archangel standing next to him glanced at it, realizing that Bobby was still on the line. Only the old man wasn't talking. From the noises he was making on the phone, it sounded like he was fighting something...

A body suddenly flew in front of Dean and Gabriel, sailing through the air to crash into a carnival game. Dean's hand was grabbing Ruby's knife again instantly as people began to shout and run down the midway. There was obviously a commotion happening in the direction the body came from. Gabriel, who was holding an angel blade, toed over to inspect the person laying amongst the rubble of stuffed animals and funnel cake.

“Found 'em,” the archangel called, reaching into the pile of toys.

Dean shoved his way through the crowd of screaming people and made it close enough to watch Gabriel pluck Bobby from the mess. The old man had definitely been fighting something. His cheek was bruised, lip was cut, and clothes were disheveled. Someone or something had roughed him up pretty good. Bobby was panting when Gabriel sat him on his feet and he took the time to glare at both of them.

“When a man asks you for backup, _you send him backup_!” he growled, “Did your damn _tea party_ run late 'er somethin'?! Where _the hell_ have you been?!”

Thankfully, Dean didn't have to answer Bobby's question – because at least five possessed men were running toward them. Once again, Dean's hunting side was activated. As the demons started pouring in, he put his head down and took his first shot; throwing Ruby's knife into the eye socket of the first guy before running forward to rip it out and plunge it into the chest of the next one. Dean caught glimpses of Gabriel and Bobby fighting them too, while he did his best to stab a path down the midway. The demons were just coming out of nowhere, throwing themselves into the scrap like mutts.

“Hey, Pinky,” Gabriel called, over the sound of screams and continuous merry-go-round music, “Can I ask you something?”

Dean broke left, rounding a cotton candy stand to come up behind two demons that were heading for Bobby. After stabbing one in the back and slicing the other open from ear to ear, Dean blinked toward Gabriel on the midway. Was the dude really wanting to talk _right now_? In the middle of a fight?

“What?!” Dean asked, ducking to avoid being hit with a random stuffed animal.

“When you were younger, and Sammy-boy wanted something that he couldn't have, how did you tell him no?” the archangel shouted, smiting his way across the path as if he was taking a leisurely stroll, “I mean, the kid's got a face that could make angels weep, you know? How do you let him down without breaking his heart?”

Dean had to fight his way out of a choke hold in order to speak. After stabbing his captor in the gut, the man huffed in confusion. Why was Gabriel asking these things about Sam? It was bad enough that he wanted to talk while they were busy, but the subject matter was terrible. Was Sam asking Gabriel for something he couldn't have? Ah, shit. Was the kid back on the demon blood again or something?

“What the hell is he asking you for?” Dean yelled, shielding his eyes from the smiting light the archangel was casting.

“That's, um, that's not important,” the trickster replied, “Just tell me how you do it. Tell me how you say no.”

“Just say no!” Dean spat, “It's not that hard! Sam will get over it! He's a big boy!”

“That he is,” Gabriel replied, tossing a quick grin at Dean before burning another demon's eyes out.

For a moment, Dean was all out of creatures to fight. He was standing alone near a kiddie ride and searching the scene for any remaining demons. It seemed like there was only two left and Gabriel was currently smiting one into dust. But, as Dean watched the archangel blasting the demon away, he caught sight of another one running up behind Gabriel. Its hand was raised and something was glistening in its grasp. Dean's body was reacting before his mind could catch up. He threw Ruby's knife as hard as he could toward the monster behind Gabriel, burying the blade into the demon's neck. The shiny angel blade in its hands dropped to the ground as it fell over. Dead.

Dean had killed Gabriel's potential murderer just in time for the archangel to spin around and see it. Gabriel's golden eyes flickered toward Dean afterward, full of awe and surprise. And Dean couldn't help but feel a little surprised at his own actions. Had Gabriel been any other angel besides Cas, Dean would have let the bastard get slaughtered. Maybe he saved Gabriel because he knew Sam loved the guy so much and Dean felt the need to protect his brother's stuff. Or maybe it was because Gabe was kind of growing on him, with all that dry humor and impressive magic. Whatever the case, Dean could feel that the distance between him and Gabriel was also changing... and drawing them closer.

“No one kills you but me,” Dean quickly said, not wanting Gabe to go all mushy on him.

“I'll take it,” the archangel shrugged.

After the strange bro moment, Dean glanced around at the destruction they had caused. He was searching for Bobby and eventually spotted the old man kneeling near the base of the Ferris wheel. As Dean and Gabriel walked up behind him to make sure he was alright, Dean could hear him talking to someone. The closer Dean got, the more he realized that Bobby was clutching a dying demon in his hands.

“Who's yer boss?” the old man barked, sounding deadly serious.

“Eat... me... Singer...” the demon wheezed.

Bobby glanced around suddenly, his eyes flashing toward Gabe and Dean. The old man yanked Ruby's knife out of Dean's hand and sliced it across the demon's chest, making him howl with pain. Dean blinked down at the top of Bobby's hat, feeling worried. Why was Bobby so determined to get an answer from this demon?

“Tell me,” Bobby warned, his tone giving Dean chills, “It ain't Crowley, is it? Tell me it ain't Crowley. _Tell me_!”

The demon only laughed in Bobby's face, splattering blood from its mouth. It reached up to Bobby's hand and forced it down, making Ruby's knife pierce its chest. The light flickered out of the demon's eyes instantly, leaving its lifeless corpse in Bobby's hands. That was the second time Dean had witnessed a demon kill itself that day. Why were they so damn eager to bite the dust?

Bobby was suddenly yelling out loud and punching the dead thing repeatedly. Dean blinked down at the old man's pure rage, feeling confused. Why the hell was Bobby so invested in this case? Why was he so emotionally attached to it? So blindingly furious about not finding out who 'the devil' was? Was he afraid that it might actually be Crowley? Was he hoping that it _wasn't_ Crowley for some reason? Bobby's rage eventually died down, leaving him to sit on the ground and pant. Dean wanted to kneel down and comfort him. He wanted to tell Bobby that it was okay if they had to kill Crowley, that the king of hell had finally earned the right to die by their hands... but he couldn't.

Because, somehow, Dean thought that talking about Crowley would only make Bobby feel worse.

* * *

Castiel glanced down at the child in his arms, eying her golden head and small ears. She had fallen asleep some time ago, after nestling back into the cavity of his chest. The angel had a feeling that Sam's careful driving had aided her slumber, gently lulling her to sleep with the subtle vibrations and hum of the car's engine. Perhaps, for a child, the hushed sounds and motions were reminiscent of time spent in the womb, recreating the comforting effects of being safe inside another body.

Castiel did not know why this particular child chose to cling to him. To be honest, he was quite glad that they were close to bringing her home. The angel didn't mind holding her and comforting her, of course, but Castiel had noticed the effect her presence had on Dean. It was obvious when they were all standing on the curb together that Dean disliked seeing the child in Cas's arms. His emerald eyes were full of unsettled energy, much like when he saw Sam and Gabriel sharing an intimate embrace for the first time. Dean didn't like it. And it made Castiel eager to restore their lives to normal.

Sam stopped the Impala on the side of a street, across from a lovely brick house on the corner. A white car had just pulled into the driveway there and a man stepped out from the driver's side. Even from a few yards away, Castiel could tell that the man just returned home from work. He was carrying a briefcase, and was dressed in a nice business suit and tan trench coat... A coat very similar to the one that clothed Castiel's vessel.

“Daddy!”

The child was suddenly animated in Castiel's arms again, blue eyes full of excitement as she blinked toward the man in the driveway. The young girl crawled toward the door handle at once and struggled to get it open. Cas glanced up at Sam next to him and shared a look of understanding. Apparently, this child's father was the man across the street. And he bore a striking resemblance to Castiel...

The angel scooped up the small child again as he exited the car. She was wiggling frantically in his grasp, smiling and excited to see the man in the driveway. Castiel was glad to see her behaving so happily. She had been through quite a trauma today and it was relieving to know that it had not effected her. As Sam and Castiel walked toward the house and the little girl repeated 'Daddy,' the man eventually looked up to see them. His eyes were full of confusion and worry as Castiel expected.

“Tonya?” the man asked, his intense eyes flickering between Sam and Cas.

After hearing him say the child's name, Castiel lowered the young girl down to place her on her feet. Her tiny footsteps were fast across the lawn as she ran to bury herself into her father's arms. He knelt down to catch her and pick her up, still glancing between Sam and Castiel.

“Why did you have my daughter?” the man asked, sounding afraid, “She's supposed to be at daycare -”

“There was a shooting,” Sam informed, “but don't worry. She's fine. We found her and just... wanted to bring her home to you.”

The man glanced down at the child in his arms, before looking back at Sam and Cas. Every emotion seemed to been written in his features. Castiel was glad to see the two of them so happy to be reunited.

“Th – thank you,” the father mumbled.

The angel's head tilted a bit as he listened to the man speak. His voice was faintly familiar. The pitch was a bit lower than Castiel remembered, but yes. Cas had heard this man's voice before. Perhaps the man had been out of breath the first time Castiel heard it, because the angel was suddenly imagining strenuous noises mixing with his voice. Did Castiel hear this man moan before? It seemed highly possible...

Sam was suddenly walking away, so Castiel quickly followed him. Was it possible that Sam had been acquainted with him, as well?

“I believe I've heard that man's voice before,” the angel noted quietly.

Sam slowed to a stop at the Impala. His eyes were vacant for a moment as he stared toward the backseat. Castiel followed his line of sight, wondering what was on his mind. Was he thinking about the man's voice, too?

“Cas,” Sam mumbled, “I need to make a pit stop.”

Of course, Castiel didn't argue with the younger Winchester. If Sam needed to stop somewhere, then he would join him without question. But, in the back of his mind, Castiel had been secretly hoping to get back to Dean. After seeing the pure distress in the man's eyes earlier, the angel felt that he needed to comfort Dean further. But, if Sam wanted to make a brief stop beforehand, then Castiel had to oblige.

After several minutes of driving around, the younger Winchester pulled into a particular parking lot at the lower end of town. The building Sam parked in front of seemed very mundane. No windows, no flashy signs, nothing to indicate the type of goods sold inside. Castiel took the time to give Sam a questioning look, hoping that he would explain their reasoning for traveling to this location. But the younger Winchester only blushed and exited the car, entering the establishment without a word. Castiel swept inside to follow him at once – and stopped abruptly in the doorway.

The inside of the building was full of inappropriate wares. Aisle upon aisle of phallic objects, shameful undergarments, and nude photographs were everywhere. There wasn't a place in the shop that Castiel could put his eyes on that did not appear sinful in someway. The angel could feel heat rushing across his own face as he flashed a surprised glance at the man next to him.

“Why are we here, Sam?” Castiel asked, “This is a den of iniquit -”

“I know what it is,” Sam interrupted, appearing just as uncomfortable, “Just, um. Just look around or something for a minute, okay? I've got to get some stuff.”

Sam instantly stepped toward a particular aisle, leaving Castiel to hover by the front door alone. The angel felt extremely uncomfortable being surrounded by such sinful items. Of course, he and Dean had used similar things in private, like Dean's pink feminine underwear. But that was mostly the extent of their use of objects during intercourse. To be honest, Castiel did not see the need for anything other than their own bodies. They didn't need devices to enhance their experience. Sex between them was already satisfactory enough.

But after stealing a couple of timid glances around him, Castiel began to wonder if there might be something in this shop that Dean would like. Perhaps purchasing a gift for him would make him feel better. After seeing the look on his face that day – a look of raw emotion, as if Dean was feeling something so powerful and painful that he couldn't put it into words – Castiel felt an overwhelming need to comfort him. Dean needed constant reassurance that he was precious and loved. And Castiel was always willing to provide him with the affection he required.

After gaining the courage to finally lift his eyes, Castiel edged toward the back of the store. He was glancing around quickly, trying not to allow his sight linger on a specific item for too long. Without Dean, the mere thought of sex felt sinful and wrong. Perhaps it was because Castiel knew that his father would not approve of him looking amongst such filthy possessions. Perhaps, in many ways, Castiel's father only approved of him being intimate with Dean. Of course, the notion was a bit far-reaching, but it made Cas wonder. Did his father truly wish that he and Dean continue their relationship? Why else would Castiel feel comfortable with engaging in intercourse with Dean while the thought of sex without him remained unsettling?

As Castiel passed by an aisle, a glimmer of light caught his attention.

The angel's feet slowed to a stop at once and he turned his sight toward the shining object. It was in a glass case, high upon a top shelf. At first, Castiel assumed that his eyes were playing tricks on him. There was no way that what he was seeing could be real. But, after stepping close enough to inspect it properly, the angel was surprised to find that it was perfectly genuine. The shining object in the glass case was made entirely of _chrome_...

Castiel's heart picked up pace as he studied the item. It took him a moment to realize that he was staring at a large metal replica of male genitalia. The chrome erection was at least double the natural size of a human organ; nearly twelve inches long and twice the thickness of an angel blade handle. But in terms of sculpture, it was extremely realistic; rounded glans, etched veins, hardened muscle. And the best part was that it was _chrome._ It was the same color and texture that Dean dreamed about on multiple occasions. The same design that he fantasized about and secretly desired Castiel to possess...

All at once, the angel was reaching into the glass case, grabbing the cool metal object, and instantly scanning the room for the check out area. He _had_ to purchase this for Dean. There was no way he could leave the store without it. Perhaps it was meant to belong to him, because the object felt oddly perfect in his grasp. Castiel spotted Sam standing in line near the front of the building and quickly walked up to stand behind him.

The younger Winchester was holding an armful of goods and was unaware of Cas's presence. But when Castiel placed his chrome phallic object on the counter, it made a loud _thunk_ on the wood and Sam turned around to see him. A strange rush of embarrassment filled Castiel as he watched Sam's mouth fall open at the sight of the large metal erection on the counter. It was probably for the best if Cas did not explain his reasoning for obtaining this specific item. Besides, Sam appeared to have quite a few things that appeared just as inappropriate...

“Judge not,” Cas requested, “and you shall not be judged.”

The angel thought it would be fitting to quote his father's words, given that he was thinking about him earlier. And Sam's expression seemed to change a bit as he coughed under his breath. After gulping with discomfort, Sam reached up and plucked a tube from the cluster of items in his arm. He carefully slid the plastic container toward the chrome erection on the counter, appearing helpful. Castiel glanced strangely at the tube before giving Sam a look of question.

“You're gonna need this,” the man informed, his face full of embarrassment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you guys remember, waaay back in the very first chapter of Solo, when Dean watched that porno? It was called 'Tiffany Gets Audited From Behind.' And you know how Tony looked exactly like Cas?... Yep. That's right, folks. **Tonya is Tony and Tiffany's daughter.** :) How's that for a twist? I guess the best/worst part, is that nobody in the story will ever know. :) But you do! Hooray for you! :) It's been almost three years since I first wrote this story and I've written a pretty long Destiel Mpreg fic since then, so when I was revising the part about Dean thinking that he could never give Castiel a child, I was thinking to myself, _"Man, you have no idea."_ ;D Cas does make a pretty good Papa, doesn't he? No wonder Tonya felt safe with him. ;) Oh. And that giant 12 inch chrome dildo? It'll be used in the next chapter. And I'm sure you won't be disappointed. ;) Thank you guys soooo much for reading and commenting! The next smutty chapter will be out soon!  <3


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains the use of smutty toys, but ends with a horrible cliffhanger. Reader discretion is advised.

“Maybe it's the balloons,” Gabriel mumbled, shuffling alongside Dean, “or the tacky outfits. Do you think it's the honking noses? Is that what makes them scary?”

Dean smiled a little as he walked down the hotel hallway next to the trickster. He knew that Gabriel was trying to figure out what made Sam so afraid of clowns. To be honest, Dean had no idea why the kid hated them so much. For all he knew, it really could be the tacky outfits.

“All I know is that they gave the kid nightmares growing up. And he wet the bed 'til he was four,” Dean answered.

“Ha! That's adorable,” the trickster laughed, slapping Dean on the back, “Ah, Pinky. You and me need to sit down and have a nice long chat about your brother's childhood sometime. I wanna know every little wet detail.”

Dean glanced up at the archangel as they walked, feeling strangely comforted. It wasn't every day that someone actually showed interest in Sam's life. Or Dean's, for that matter. And it kind of surprised Dean to know that Gabriel _wanted_ to talk to him. That the guy _wanted_ to sit down and have a genuine conversation. Once again, Dean could feel the distance between him and Gabriel shortening. Maybe saving the trickster's life back at the carnival had something to do with it. Or, maybe, Dean was just glad to finally get along with Cas's brother...

“Welp. This is my stop,” Gabriel said, tossing a wave as he ventured toward a particular room, “Tell baby-bird I said hello. Catch you two in the morning.”

Dean waved off the archangel, watching him carefully open the door to his and Sam's room and prance inside. Once he was alone, Dean faced forward to start moseying down the corridor. He was already eying the last door on the left, hoping that an certain angel in a trench coat was just beyond it. Would Cas be waiting there for him? Would they finally get to be alone again? Or did he still have that kid hanging off of him? Dean grimaced toward the floor at the sudden thought of her. Those terrible feelings she gave him were back, making him feel worse. God, he really hoped that she had made it home okay...

After taking a quick and bracing breath, Dean carefully opened the door to his and Cas's hotel room. The smell of stale sex was thick in the air, making Dean want to breathe deeper. He eased in quietly because it seemed like no one else was around. But after stepping in and letting the door close behind him, Dean noticed that Cas was in the room. The angel was thankfully alone and perched in a chair by the window, sitting in total silence. He was still completely dressed and perfectly motionless – and his eyes were closed again.

Dean gulped as he entered the room, staring at Cas's closed eyelids. What the hell was he doing? Cas couldn't be sleeping, could he? And why was there subtle smile on his pink lips? Dean glanced up and down the angel's sitting form, studying every detail of him. Though he couldn't be completely sure, Dean could almost see the outline of a boner in Cas's lap. Was it true? Did Cas have an erection? Why the hell was he just sitting there like that with a boner in his pants and a smirk on his face? Had he been masturbating? Was he thinking about someone?

“I'm back,” Dean blurted.

Cas's eyes flew open instantly and his head spun around to look at Dean. The smile on his lips widened and he nearly jumped out of his chair. He was acting all excited now, like a dog whose owner had just come home. Cas's blue eyes ran up and down Dean's body for a moment before he reached out to touch the man's face. Dean savored the feeling of Cas's hands on him, loving how it warm and soft the sensation was. The angel tugged him down into a sudden kiss, making Dean blink repeatedly in bewilderment. He enjoyed the heavenly taste of Cas's mouth of course, but it struck him as odd. Cas was almost never the first one to initiate a kiss. Where did all this sexual energy come from? Geez, he was acting hornier than Dean himself.

“Hello, Dean,” the angel breathed after pulling away.

“Cas,” Dean gulped, searching his blue sapphires, “Are you okay?”

Dean knew he was being pretty straightforward, but he really wanted to know what had came over his angel. The last time he saw Cas that day, the guy was holding a kid on a street corner and looked like a badass hero-warrior that didn't take bullshit from anybody. And now, the angel was like an excited puppy, pawing at Dean's clothes and biting down smiles. It was a drastic change and Dean wanted to know where it came from.

“Yes. I have something for you, Dean,” Cas answered, seeming unable to contain his excitement.

“You – have something for me?” Dean repeated.

At first, Dean imagined that Cas would say something along the lines of ' _Yeah. It's my dick. Now bend over and take it like a man_.' Because the angel had recently taken up a few lessons in dominance and, to be perfectly honest, Dean would have loved to hear him say it. But Cas didn't respond with words. Instead, he briefly stepped toward the bed and reached behind it to retrieve a box. It was a black leather carrying case by the looks of its length and make up. But even from a single glance, Dean knew that it couldn't be a gun. The box was too big for a handgun and too small for a rifle. It looked more like a carrying case for an instrument, like a flute or clarinet. Oh, great. What was Dean supposed to do with a freakin' flute?

Cas eagerly stepped back in front of Dean, holding the box out delicately. His eyes were so huge; so full of pride and excitement. Dean tried his best to put on a brave face, not wanting to disappoint his angel.

“It's yours,” Cas smiled, offering it to Dean, “I purchased it for you.”

Dean gulped and hesitantly raised his hands to undo the clasps on the front. He was still expecting a woodwind instrument to be waiting inside for him and was already trying to prepare a good reaction. Maybe he should fake a smile and say something like, ' _Oh, thank you, baby. I've always wanted to blow on one of these_.' In an effort to get it over with, Dean flipped open the lid – and his jaw fell in genuine surprise. It wasn't a flute.

It was a giant chrome dick.

For a small second, Dean forgot how to even breathe. Holy shit! It was a chrome dick! The same dick he fantasized about all the freakin' time! Every tiny detail of it was absolutely perfect, veins and muscles glimmering in the light. It was entirely chrome. And it was so damn _pretty_. Dean could feel his own dick responding to the sight of it, twitching to life inside his pants. Oh, God. He _had_ to give this thing a ride...

After he finally regained motor function, Dean reached up to scoop the chrome dildo out of its case, using both hands to cradle it. The thing was super heavy but smooth to the touch. It felt so good in his grasp too, so sleek and hard and cool. Ugh, he could feel his boner growing the longer he held it. How many times did he dream about this object? How many times did he fantasize about Cas having one of these? How many times did he _come_ to the thought of it being inside him?

“Do you like it, Dean?”

Dean's eyes snapped up at the sound of Cas's voice. Anticipation was clear in the angel's eyes. It was no wonder the guy was so excited when he saw Dean. Cas knew that Dean would love this, didn't he? Maybe this was the reason he had a boner too, because he knew how much it would turn Dean on. As he stared at the pure joy in Cas's eyes, Dean leaned forward to press their lips together again. Dean kissed his angel as passionately as he could, wrapping him into a warm embrace with one hand while he held his gift in other.

“I freakin' love it,” Dean pulled away to state, stealing another glance at it, “Where – where the hell did you get this, Cas? I didn't even know these existed.”

“I followed your brother into a den of iniquity,” the angel answered, his hands running up and down Dean's arms and chest, “and this object presented itself to me. I believe it was meant to be in your possession.”

“I wanna try it,” Dean blurted, his tone slightly begging, “Right now, Cas. Let's try it right now.”

Dean didn't care if he sounded as needy and impatient as a teenage girl. This was his number one _wet_ _dream_. And he would be damned if he was gonna wait any longer for it. Cas seemed to agree with his enthusiasm. The angel nodded once before reaching out to press his palm flat against Dean's chest. All of the man's clothes vanished in an instant, revealing his heaving chest and the boner rapidly growing between his legs. Dean gasped a little at the feeling of open air hitting his bare skin, but he was glad Cas had zapped all his clothes away. There was no time to waste when he was this horny.

Cas reunited their mouths for a second as his hand slid up to take hold of the chrome dildo. They were both holding the metal shaft then, kissing obscenely and letting their hips rock toward each other. The angel yanked the chrome dick out of Dean's hand as he pulled away, stepping back to give Dean a serious look.

“Dean, I know that you dislike being prepared for intercourse,” Cas said carefully, “but this is a very large object and it will be difficult to penetrate you without the proper -”

“I know,” Dean interrupted, hopping happily onto the bed, “You've gotta do what you've gotta do. Just go as fast as you can, okay?”

At this point, Dean didn't care what Cas had to do in order to get that thing inside. As long as he got to feel that smooth shiny metal inside of him, Dean would be perfectly content. The man knelt on the very edge of the bed and bent over, planting himself on his hands and knees. He made sure to arch his back a little for Cas's sake, hoping the sight would get the angel going. And it appeared to be working. Cas's eyes were huge, staring at Dean's ass like it was made of solid gold. The angel gave a small cough before reaching into one of his coat pockets and pulling out a small tube. Dean blinked at it in the dim light of their motel room. Wait, was that lube? They had never used actual lubricant before. Where did Cas get that?

“Is that lube?” Dean asked, watching Cas step behind him.

“Um. Yes. Your brother said we would need it,” Cas answered, cracking it open.

Dean rolled his eyes. He wasn't sure whether he should be mad at Sam for taking his angel into a sex shop, or grateful to Sam for it. Either way, the kid learned that Dean had a secret fetish for the color chrome and it made him feel a little uncomfortable. Sam wasn't supposed to know that shit. It was personal...

A nice drizzle of cold goo was suddenly flowing between Dean's ass cheeks. The man sucked in a gasp at the sensation, flinching a little at the temperature. His hands were clutching the bed sheets and his toes were wiggling out in the open. Oh, God, this was going to feel so good. The lube alone made Dean's hole clench with eagerness. Cas's fingers were pressing against it, rubbing it gently but firmly. A tiny croak left the man's lips as the first finger slipped inside. Son of a bitch. There was no feeling in the world like having Cas's body infiltrate his own...

“You are... always so tight at first,” Cas mentioned, his voice dripping with arousal.

Dean only hummed and backed against Cas's hand, sliding himself further onto it. He was glad to know that Cas liked being inside of him just as much as Dean liked having him inside. The angel probed the man's ass for a second to loosen up the ring of muscle before adding another finger. Dean gripped the bed sheets tighter in his hands, loving the wave of tingles that inched up his back.

“Add another one,” Dean whispered, before biting his bottom lip.

“Not until you're ready,” the angel replied.

Dean's eyes fluttered shut and he hung his head. Ugh, he hated having to wait so long to get what he wanted. But, God, he loved it when Cas spoke in that no-bullshit tone... After a few more moments of stretching, Cas did add another finger. _And another._ At this point, Dean could tell that Cas was using both of his index and middle fingers, because they were moving at different speeds. More tingles and jolts raced up the man's spine as he felt Cas spreading him open, massaging the muscle and persuading it to loosen. Dean was panting and grunting by then, wanting so bad to get on with it. His own dick was swollen and throbbing, hanging heavily between his thighs. Shit. He didn't know how much more of this he could take.

“Cas,” Dean whimpered, “ _Please_.”

After hearing Dean beg, all of Cas's fingers suddenly left Dean's hole. The man could feel the huge difference it made. It practically left him gaping open. Dean turned his head to watch Cas sit down next to him on the bed. The chrome dildo was in his hands and he was lubing it up, completely covering it from tip to base with glistening fluid. Dean gulped again, seeing how shiny and beautiful it was. There was no way he would be able to take the entire thing. Cas knew that, right?

“I can't take all twelve inches,” Dean mumbled, feeling a little intimidated.

“I know, Dean. Perhaps ten is a more appropriate number. Do you feel comfortable with ten inches?” Cas asked calmly, as if he was talking about the length of socks rather than a giant chrome dildo.

“Y – yeah?” Dean said, slightly hypnotized by watching Cas run his hand up and down the glistening metal erection, “Just do it already, dammit.”

With a tiny nod, Cas leaned forward to press his lips to Dean's waist. He was pecking the man's bare hip with kisses as he raised the chrome shaft up to Dean's hole. Of course, Dean couldn't see the thing from the angle he was positioned in, but he sure could as hell _feel_ it. The icy cold metal head touching his heated hole made him flinch forward.

“Whoa,” Dean gasped, looking at Cas, “Can't you warm that thing up first?”

The angel blinked strangely down at Dean's face before looking at the giant dildo in his hand. All at once, Cas's eyes began to glow. A light burst from his palm and shined against the chrome. Dean's cock throbbed violently at the sight of Cas heating up the metal with his celestial power. After only a few seconds, though, the light disappeared. The angel was back to normal again, seeming as calm as ever. Cas looked back down at Dean's face while he raised the chrome dick back to the man's entrance. Oh shit, Dean could feel the heat from it against his wet skin, teasing him with its presence.

“Do you want it, Dean?” Cas asked, voice low and severe.

“ _Yes_ ,” Dean groaned, already rocking his hips.

Cas carefully pressed the head of it inside, letting it fill Dean back up. A moan toppled out of the man's mouth at the sensation, able to feel every tiny bit of its thickness. Dean took deliberate breaths the first time it slid all the way in, trying to get comfortable with its colossal size. It felt just the way he dreamed that it would; no resistance, no friction. It felt heavy inside of him too, resting largely on all of his internal organs – especially his prostate. Holy shit, Cas was angling the massive head right on it, poking it from the inside.

“Gnah, Cas,” Dean panted, reaching over to clutch a handful of his trench coat, “Thrust it, baby.”

Cas complied with Dean's needy tone, pulling the sleek metal shaft out enough to shove it back in. Dean moaned like a bitch when it slammed back against his prostate, letting his toes curl back up and his face fall to the bed. Shit, that felt so damn _good_! He looked up awkwardly at Cas's face, staring at the look of concentration painted in his expression. He was moving the huge chrome erection in the same way a violinist would move their bow against the strings, working it like a musical genius. And Dean was the violin, being delicately and masterfully played like never before...

“Son of a _bitch_ ,” Dean moaned, tugging the tan fabric close to his mouth, “ _C – Cas_! Don't hold back, baby. Please, Cas! _M – more_!”

The angel's blue eyes flickered down at Dean's face as he slid his free hand along the man's bare back. As the chrome shaft entered Dean over and over, Cas's hand eventually found its way to Dean's swollen cock. A series of broken moans and high pitched cries fell out of Dean's mouth when Cas started pumping his dick in unison with the hot metal dildo. Dean had never felt so delirious in his life. His hips were confused about which way to thrust and he was drooling all over a fistful of Cas's coat. Dammit, that chrome erection felt so good pounding his ass. And Cas's hand felt so good milking his dick. Shit, this felt _so good_! Dean could feel his swaying balls seizing up. Oh, shit. The massive wave of pleasure was swelling up to crest over him.

“I – I'm gonna come, Cas!” the man panted, while his sight blurred and his ass rocked, “Ahh! _Castiel_! Shit! _I'm gonna_ -”

A bomb of ecstasy exploded inside Dean's body, making his toes curl, his breath hitch, and his hands grasp at Cas's coat. He could feel his dick pulsing inside the angel's working hand while he lost motor function again. Dean was almost unaware that a giant chrome dick was in his body or that he was on his hands and knees. The only thing Dean was truly aware of – as pleasure graced his whole body and he cried out like a wounded animal – was Cas's powerful presence. The angel was making Dean's orgasm a thousand times better just by being there. His blue attentive eyes and his caressing hands were all Dean needed to linger in the bliss...

Tiny whimpers continued to hum from Dean's mouth as the chrome dick and Cas's hand both carefully drew to a stop. The man's face was laying in a puddle of his own drool and his thighs were shaking, trembling in the aftermath of his orgasm. Dean could only blink lazily up at Cas and try to remember how to breathe. The angel, who was breathing pretty heavily himself, finally let go of Dean's spent cock. Cas gently slid the metal shaft out of the man's ass too, and Dean could feel every single inch of it leaving his body. He was left gaping open again once it was completely gone. Dean instantly fell flat against the bed afterward to lay quivering in a pool of his own drool, sweat, and semen.

Son of a bitch. That was the best orgasm ever.

Dean slowly blinked up at Cas next to him when he heard a hushed whimper. The angel had put the huge wet dildo on the bed next to him and was suddenly undoing his own pants. Cas's hands were shaking and fumbling with his zipper and Dean could see the look of desperation in the poor guy's face. Ah, man. Dean felt like a selfish asshole all of the sudden, watching Cas struggle to reach his own dick. The angel had been so busy taking care of Dean's ass that he had forgotten about his own needs.

Although Dean's body was weak and exhausted, he forced his hand to reach out and smack Cas's away. He quickly tugged open the button on Cas's pants and dove a hand inside to take hold of the angel's dick. Oh, yeah. Cas was on the verge of orgasm, alright. His cock was practically leaking. Dean started pumping his hand along it the best he could, watching the pleasure flicker over Cas's pretty face. The angel was rocking his hips with Dean's hand, letting his own hands clutch the bed and moans erupt from his mouth.

“Ah! Dean! Y – yes!” he panted.

Cas's body shuddered suddenly and Dean could feel the cock pulsing in his hand. Dean enjoyed the sight of Cas coming in his own pants, loving the way his blue eyes rolled back, his adam's apple bobbed, and his moans filled the room. It never took much effort to make Cas to come. It was easier than petting a dog. Just a couple of strokes and the job was done. But there was nothing Dean loved more than being the one responsible for making Cas come...

After the angel was finished, he tipped over to lay on the bed. His head rolled next to Dean's and the two of them just laid there for a moment to pant and stare toward one another. Dean had the urge to talk to Cas or at least say something, but he wasn't sure of what to say. Maybe he should ask about the little girl and find out if she made it home okay. Maybe he should tell Cas about the carnival and how Bobby kept mentioning Crowley. Or tell Cas that Gabriel was probably going to bait Sam about the clown thing for a while. Dean wanted to talk about all of these things. But he didn't. Because his heart spoke first.

“I love you, Cas,” Dean whispered, blinking toward the angel's baby blues, “and I'm sorry if I ever hurt you.”

He wasn't sure why he added on that last part. Maybe it was because he felt bad about assuming that Cas wanted distance from him. Maybe he felt bad because Cas had bought him an amazing gift and he would never be able to return the favor. What ever the reason was, his words were still true. Cas's eyes lit up with confusion the moment he said it. The angel reached up to touch Dean's face again as they breathed in each others' scents.

“You have nothing to apologize for, Dean,” Cas whispered, as a flicker of wonder appeared on his face, “Is something wrong? Are – are you not happy with your new phallic object?”

“What? The chrome dick? No, I freakin' _love_ that thing, baby,” Dean answered quickly, “I just – I want you to know that... You mean everything to me.”

It was the truth. Without Cas, there was really no point to anything in Dean's life. The angel smiled a bit before leaning forward to join their lips. Dean kissed Cas back as hard as he could, reaching up to hold the back of his soft head while their tongues slid together. Dean hoped that Cas could see how much he needed him. He hoped that the angel knew how much effect he had on Dean's life. Because if any more distance came between them, Dean probably wouldn't last very long...

“I love you, too, Dean,” Cas pulled away to breathe, “More than you'll ever know.”

* * *

“It's a freakin' roach farm over there,” Dean mumbled.

Castiel leaned forward in the backseat of the Impala, craning his neck to see beyond the windshield. Dean was in the driver's seat and Sam was sitting next to him. They, along with Castiel and Gabriel, were surveying the warehouse just across the street. The Impala itself was hidden just behind a few trees, laying in wait for Bobby Singer to come to their aid. The elder hunter had requested that they all meet here and issue an attack on the neighboring warehouse. Castiel could sense multiple demons just inside the confounds of the place; the same 'roach farm' Dean was referring to. He knew that this had to be the headquarters of the child-killing demon they had been tracking.

“How many do you think are in there?” Sam asked, looking through a pair of binoculars.

“I can sense at least thirty,” Castiel informed.

“Thirty-three to be exact,” Gabriel added, leaning forward as well, “So, should Cassie and I blow them away now or wait for old-man-river to show up?”

Castiel watched Dean's emerald eyes roll. He could tell that the man was already stressed enough without the additive of Gabriel's banter. Perhaps their strenuous sex from the night before had drained his energy.

“Bobby said to wait for him,” Dean said toward Gabriel, “and I think we should -”

“Dean,” Sam gasped, “they've got a kid.”

Castiel instantly looked through the windshield again as Dean stole Sam's binoculars. Gabriel was searching the warehouse along with Cas, both of them leaning over the front seat. There was, in fact, a child just across the street. Three demons were leading him into a door on the right side of the building. Castiel only caught a brief glimpse of his red hair and freckled face before the possessed men carted him inside.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean growled, lowering the binoculars in his hands, “Alright. Change of plans. We're going in.”

Castiel quickly exited the Impala and followed Dean around to the trunk. Sam and Gabriel stopped at the back of the car as Dean opened the false bottom and began to disperse weapons. He gave his younger brother a gun and a magazine of bullets before handing Castiel an angel blade. The angel took the chrome handle at once, noticing the subtle wink that Dean gave him.

“This should be a pretty easy take down,” Gabriel mentioned, swinging his own angel blade around, “Cassie and I can step on all the cock roaches while you guys steal the kid. Is that a ten-four, Pinky?”

“No,” Dean barked, sounding absolutely serious, “We're not going to burst in there with guns ablaze. I don't want to cause a scene, dammit. Sam, you and I are gonna sneak in that door and take a little look around and see if we can get to that kid. Cas,” he said, turning to meet the angel's eyes, “you and blondie sneak around the other side of the warehouse and take down any look-outs. I don't want anybody knowing that we're here, okay?”

“Understood,” Castiel answered.

The two of them continued to stare at one another for a moment, both feeling the nervous anticipation of being separated.

“Please be careful, Dean,” Castiel added, already able to feel the pain of the man's absence.

Dean visibly gulped and his green eyes filled with worry. For a moment, Dean was not the iron-clad hunter prepared for battle that he had been all morning. As he stared at Castiel, Dean was simply a man afraid of losing what he cherished the most. In a sudden motion, Dean lurched forward to press his moist lips to Castiel's. The angel's eyes fluttered shut as he kissed the man, wanting to savor the taste for as long as possible.

“Promise me you won't let your idiot brother get you into trouble,” Dean whispered afterward, giving a forced smile.

“I promise,” Castiel replied instantly, before quickly adding, “I – I love you, Dean.”

“I love you too, baby. But don't go all mushy on me... Zap me over to the warehouse,” Dean requested, clicking the magazine into his gun.

Castiel hesitantly raised his hand to the man's forehead. Their eyes remained connected as the angel carefully pressed his fingers to the man's head. Castiel sent Dean away with a tiny beat of wings, gently placing him by the warehouse. The angel felt strangely ill afterward, as if an important part of his physical being had vanished. Castiel glanced back toward Gabriel long enough to see the archangel send Sam away. It left the two of them to stand and look toward one another.

“Looks like it's just you and me now, baby-duck,” Gabriel smirked, “Ready to go bug smashin'?”

Castiel sighed heavily but nodded. After giving a wink, Gabriel flew to the roof of the warehouse, leaving Castiel to follow him. Dean had been correct in assuming that there were demon lookouts stationed around the building. And from this vantage point, the angels could easily detect the location of each one. Gabriel, who had always been the most agile archangel, was fast to take out the demon positioned on the east side of the building. Castiel took the liberty of smiting the one near the south exit, covering its mouth in case it tried to alert others.

Once most of the outside of the building was secure, Castiel and Gabriel met at their last target on the edge of a metal fire escape. Both angels appeared on either side of the last demon, giving him no room to flee. Fear was evident in his black eyes as they darted from one celestial being to the other.

“Pardon us, sir demon,” Gabriel crowed, talking in a strange accent, “but do you have the time?”

The demon opened its mouth in an attempt to escape from its vessel, but Castiel plunged his angel blade deep into its chest before it had time to billow out. The light flickered out of its eyes and it toppled over the side of the fire escape, falling down to crumble into a pile of limbs on the solid ground far below.

“Hmm. Guess he didn't have a watch,” Gabriel sighed, as he reached up to pat Castiel on the shoulder, “All in a day's work, eh, Castiel?”

“That only took us two minutes,” Castiel answered, giving his brother a strange look.

“Still a hard day's work,” the archangel shrugged, “We're ridding the world of demons. Don't you think daddy would be proud of - ?”

The sound of several loud gunshots echoed from inside the building.

Castiel and Gabriel gave each other equal looks of bewilderment, knowing that Dean and Sam had been planning to go in silently to survey the scene. Did they change their minds? Were they shooting the at the demons? ... Or were the _demons_ shooting at _them_? It seemed that Castiel didn't have to wait very long to receive his answer. Because he soon heard the weary voice of Sam Winchester in his mind, praying out with a raspy tone that clearly sounded full of pain.

“ _Gabriel,_ ” Sam's voice called.

Castiel was staring into Gabriel's eyes then, seeing the raw emotion and visible worry swelling in the golden orbs. In all the centuries Castiel had known him, Gabriel never appeared so heartbroken; so surprised and worried – and fearful.

“ _Sam_ ,” the archangel breathed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, I know! I'm horrible person for ending the chapter this way! :( But lucky for you, you only have to wait _one day_ for the next one. My poor readers back in 2015 had to wait an entire week! (And at least one of them abandoned the story altogether, which really hurt.) :( But never fear, my lil duckies! Everything is going to be okay! :) There is actually a reason that Cas keeps 'meditating' by himself, and Dean will find out about it soon. Until then, I think he is going to be happily distracted by his new toy. ;) Thank you all so much for reading this fic! I hope you will stick around to find out about the warehouse tomorrow! I love you all! :) The next chapter will be out soon!  <3


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna be totally honest with you: The first part of this chapter is absolutely painful to read. :( But there is amazing fluffy feels to be had just beyond the angst. So take my hand, and we will get through this terrible angst together. :)

Castiel searched his brother's worried face, feeling the same wave of shock and fear crest over himself. Though they had not witnessed it, Cas and Gabriel both knew that Sam had been injured somehow. His raspy voice was still playing in both of their minds as gunshots continued to echo from inside the confines of the warehouse.

_Dean_ , Sam wheezed, voice gargling, _I can't_...

Gabriel was the first to react. His knees bent, his arms braced, and Castiel could sense him attempting to fly inside, exerting a fair amount of grace in an effort to manifest within the warehouse. But he wasn't moving. He was frozen on the fire escape next to Castiel, appearing unable to fly.

“What the hell,” Gabriel breathed, “Why can't I get in?!”

Seeing his brother's distress, Castiel also attempted to fly inside the building. But it seemed as though some kind of barrier was placed around the warehouse. It wouldn't allow his grace to pass through. Cas was just as confused as his brother by this conundrum. Why couldn't they fly inside? As a few more gunshots rang out from beyond the walls, Castiel flew to the top of the fire escape instead, in order to look in through one of the various windows, hoping to find the reason he couldn't penetrate the establishment.

Upon scanning the inside of the building, Castiel observed that the warehouse walls were covered in carefully written symbols too faint for the human eye to detect. Cas's heart fluttered with fear at the sight. As he glanced from one vandalized wall to another, it suddenly dawned on him – that this entire warehouse was a trap. The building was completely warded against angels and the Winchesters had wandered in blindly to rescue a child that was no longer detectable. The demons had planned on Dean and Sam coming inside all along and had been ready to kill them before the angels had time to realize building was warded...

_Breathe, Sam! Just breathe, okay?!_ Dean's voice rang in Castiel's ears like church bells,  _Cas! Get in here! Now!_

Castiel had fought in many heavenly battles and listened to many people cry out his name in vain. But hearing it in Dean's voice was overwhelmingly worse. Though he couldn't see the Winchesters from his current position, Castiel imagined that Dean was surrounded by demons; trying his best to keep himself and his brother alive with what little ammunition he had taken with him. But his bullets were eventually going to run out. What if Castiel couldn't to get to him before the demons descended?

Though panic was threatening to take him over, Castiel quickly flashed into action, zooming back down the fire escape to perch next to his brother once more. A few other demons – armed with angel blades, this time – had raced up the stairs in an attempt to corner Gabriel. But their strength was no match for the archangel who was slaughtering them left and right.

“The entire building is warded,” Castiel informed him, as he smote the last of the demonic onslaught, “We must find a way to get -”

_Gabriel,_ Sam's voice interrupted Cas, weak and nearly inaudible _Gabe_...

The archangel was no doubt affected by Sam Winchester's prayers. Once the man spoke his name, Gabriel's face contorted with rage and he flew from the fire escape. Castiel quickly followed him, bounding to certain parts of the building in search of a way inside. Even the roof was void of access. Cas attempted to slip through a ventilation duct, hoping that the demons would have forgotten to ward small details of the warehouse structure. But he was unable to even pass through the gate.

_Castiel!_ Dean's voice was straining, now, _Get your ass over here, dammit! Sam? Hey, look at me, Sammy, you're gonna be fine, okay? Keep – keep your eyes open._

Though Castiel was trying his best to remain calm and think logically, his emotions were beginning to get the best of him. The angel was fully aware that Sam Winchester was dying, most likely in the arms of his brother, who was calling out for Castiel with almost every breath. The heart within Cas's vessel was working overtime, pounding with adrenaline and anxiety. He _had_ to find a way to get inside the building. Castiel felt it was his personal duty to watch over and protect the Winchesters. And right now, he was failing both of them.

Once he realized that there would be no sneaking into the building, Castiel flew around it in circles for a moment to search for his brother. Perhaps if they worked together, the two angels could find a way to get to their humans. Gabriel was positioned at the rear entrance of the warehouse on what appeared to be a loading dock. The archangel was repeatedly slamming his fists against the bricks of the south wall, attempting to smash his way inside. Castiel couldn't help but feel that hearing Sam's voice had affected Gabriel and morphed him into a raging beast.

_R – Ron_ , Sam's cough was loud and clear in Castiel's mind, _Ron_...

Cas blinked strangely. Who was 'Ron?' And why was Sam calling for him as if his name was important? Though Castiel was completely baffled by the younger Winchester's prayer, Gabriel instantly tensed in front of him, freezing his fists in order to flash a worried glance forward. Perhaps that word meant something to them as a unit. Perhaps 'Ron' was code for something else.

_Don't talk, Sam_ , Dean replied to his brother, his voice soothing and fearful all at once, _Shhh. Don't talk._ _Cas_! _Gabriel_! _One of you_! _Please_!”

In the back of his mind, Castiel knew that hitting the side of the building with his fists would not help him break through the wards. But that didn't stop him from copying his brother anyway. The two angels were delivering powerful blows to the brick wall, using their grace to rocket swift punches repeatedly to the same spot. Castiel couldn't deny that this act was animalistic – pounding mindlessly against a wall was beastly in every way. But there was always a small chance that this could possibly work. There was no other way inside the building; no entrance they could step foot through, no window they could infiltrate. As strange as it seemed, Castiel and Gabriel were attempting to create their own entrance through means of primal anger and fear.

As the angels began to puncture a small hole in the wall at last, they heard the voice of Sam Winchester cross their minds once more. This particular sentence was faint, barely loud enough to make an impact on an angelic conscious. Sam was speaking toward Dean but the moment his words pierced Castiel's holy radar, the angel knew the man was near the verge of death.

_D – Dean_ , Sam wheezed, _Te – tell... Gabe_...

Castiel could almost feel the sadness in the man's voice and it made his own heart ache. Sam was attempting to give Dean specific instructions to follow... in the event of his untimely departure. Cas's sight fell upon Gabriel at once, knowing that the archangel had heard Sam's latest prayer. At the mention of his name, Gabriel's fists drew to a stop. A large howl of anger ripped from the archangel's throat, infused with enough grace to shatter the windows of a few neighboring buildings.

“ _Screw this_!” Gabriel shouted.

Castiel barely had time to duck out of the way before the archangel delivered a gigantic blast of his grace to the building. The power consisted of bomb-like proportions, causing the entire wall to explode in a storm of shattered brick and concrete. All along, Castiel worried that if they broke through the wall in this manner, the entire building would collapse with Dean and Sam inside. But, luckily, most of the structure remained standing after Gabriel destroyed the wall.

And the ward was finally broken.

Castiel and Gabriel both flew inside at once to perch in the center of the room and spin around in search of the Winchesters. It only took less than a second for Castiel to find Dean, because the man's voice was loud and clear, echoing around the room in frantic cries. The man was kneeling on the floor and cradling his brother's head in arms. Both men were soaked in and surrounded by blood – _Sam's_ blood. Dean's precious face was glistening with tears as he stared down at his little brother's pale face. Even from the small distance, Castiel could see that it was too late. Sam's aura had already faded away. His eyes were half open and blood was still oozing from the corner of his mouth. But he was gone.

For a moment, Castiel was simply frozen with shock and guilt, listening and watching Dean repeat Sam's name in broken sobs. It wasn't until a single gunshot echoed around the broken room that the angel tore his sight away from the Winchesters to look behind him. A group of demons were gathered at Gabriel's back,and it appeared as though one had just shot the archangel in the head. Of course, shooting Gabriel with a simple gun did not harm him. If anything, the sight of Sam laying dead in Dean's arms was what truly caused him pain. But the gunshot _did_ get his attention. As the archangel slowly raised his head, Castiel realized that Gabriel's face was holding the same look of pure rage that Lucifer's expression held the day their father banished him from heaven. It was the look of someone who had nothing left to lose; when everything they cherished was gone and only defeat and rage remained.

Gabriel's eyes slowly lit up with heavenly light. The loose bricks and metal shelves in the room began to rattle loudly as golden grace began to glow from the archangel's form. As Castiel watched his brother turn to face the demons, he realized that Gabriel was about to exit his vessel. The archangel's wrath was about to rain down on all those responsible for Sam's death – which meant he was going to blow the entire warehouse apart.

Castiel's sight instantly shot back toward Dean. The man was still clinging to his brother on the floor but his green eyes were raised in awe, watching the phenomenon taking place. Castiel knew that there was no way Dean would be able to withstand the sight of Gabriel's true form. Simply being in the archangel's presence would be enough to make the man's flesh burn. As Gabriel's potent grace began to fill the room, Castiel instantly flew to the Winchesters and spread his own wings in order to shield them from the archangel's powerful rage.

Castiel quickly cupped Dean's head and drove it tightly against his chest, covering both of the man's eyes with one hand, while wrapping him into an embrace with the other. The angel felt one of Dean's hands reach out to grab a fistful of the front of his coat and clutch him with trust. Castiel could feel the heat of Gabriel's wrath at his winged back. The entire room was full of blinding white light, hot enough to burn any living thing within close range. Screams of demons were mixing with the high pitched sound of Gabriel's grace and Castiel feared that the sound might harm Dean's ears. The angel curled his wings tighter around the brothers, hoping to encase them in complete safety. Cas had no idea how long it would take for Gabriel's rage to end. All he knew for certain was that he needed to shield Dean and Sam from its deadly power for the entire duration.

Thankfully, it was over in a matter of seconds. The light of Gabriel's grace vanished from the space in an instant, leaving the walls and the ceiling to crumble in the aftermath. Castiel braced for the impact of debris, feeling some of the brick bounce and tumble against his back. He kept his wings firmly tucked around the Winchesters until he was certain that the area was safe. After the angel raised his head to make sure the coast was clear, he carefully released Dean. The man was breathing harshly and his emerald eyes blinked open in surprise. Dean looked around the damaged warehouse in utter shock, beholding the devastation of Gabriel's grace. But even though his eyes were full of wonder and fear, his hand never let go of Castiel's clothes. Dean clung to the angel's coat as if were a life raft and he was floating out at sea.

Gabriel had returned to the confines of his vessel and was now standing in the midst of his own debris. He was standing on trembling legs and surrounded by burned bodies and broken walls. His golden eyes were momentarily vacant and his mouth was panting. And, for a moment, Castiel was sure that Gabriel had lost his sanity; that the sight of Sam's body had cracked his fragile mind. But after a few seconds of silence, the archangel stumbled toward Castiel and the Winchesters. His sight was set on Sam and determination had taken over his expression. Thankfully, it appeared that he had retained his level mind.

As Gabriel fell to his knees in front of Dean, Castiel noticed that the man was staring at the archangel with wide dazed eyes. Dean appeared in awe of Gabriel's angelic display and shocked by the destructive force he exerted. And when Gabriel reached forward to scoop Sam's body out of Dean's arms, the man didn't resist. He allowed the archangel to place Sam in the floor between them, too stunned to refuse Gabriel's actions.

Castiel and Dean were both watching when Gabriel placed his hand directly on the center of Sam's chest. His palm was flat to the younger Winchester's ribcage, directly over Sam's heart. Gabriel's golden eyes flickered closed for a moment – and he hesitated. Castiel knew his angelic brother had the power to restore human souls to their bodies and that it wouldn't take him much effort at all to reclaim Sam's soul from death's clutches, just as he did with the child at the daycare center. But Gabriel was deliberately hesitating, now. A strange fearfulness was resting on the archangel's face too, as if he was waiting for a verdict to be reached. Castiel had genuine sympathy for his brother. Perhaps Gabriel was allowing Sam to make the decision on whether he wanted to return or not...

With a tiny exhale of relief, Gabriel firmly spread his fingers against Sam's chest and finally allowed his grace to work. The golden light shined from under his palm, gathering all the blood back into Sam's body and healing his wounds. Dean was still holding fast to Castiel's coat as he watched the archangel revive his brother. The stunned awe never left his face. Dean was still in total astonishment beholding Gabriel's strength. The archangel continued to restore Sam's body to its original state and finally finished with a small electrical pulse to jump start the man's system.

Sam's eyes and mouth flew open at the same time as he sucked in a gulp of air.

Relief swept through everyone at the glimmer of life shining in Sam's eyes. Castiel exhaled the breath he had been holding and Gabriel quickly wrapped Sam into a hug, burying his face into the man's neck and cradling him with a tenderness that only a lovers could share. While Dean appeared to be glad that Gabriel had healed Sam and returned him from the dead, the older Winchester was still stealing glances around the broken warehouse, eying the crumbled walls and burnt shadows. Apparently, Gabriel had successfully impressed Dean beyond words...

“ _Gabe_ ,” Sam sighed, reaching up to wrap his arms tightly around the archangel hovering over him.

Castiel watched as Gabriel raised his head to look down at Sam. There was obvious relief in his golden eyes, so much that he actually seemed to be on the verge of tears. Castiel instinctively wrapped an arm around Dean's shoulder, able to feel the weight of Gabriel's relief within himself. Sam and Dean's roles could have been easily reversed in this situation. What if it had been _Dean_ laying dead in _Sam's_ arms? Castiel stole a glance at Dean's precious face again as Sam and Gabriel enjoyed their reunion.

“Dammit, kid,” the archangel spat, “Don't ever scare me like that again.”

Sam appeared rightfully confused by the archangel's demand, but reached up to touch Gabriel's hair anyway.

“I'll try not to,” the man promised.

The two of them suddenly kissed, joining their mouths in a rush. Sam's eyes were open and blinking as it happened though, searching for his brother. Castiel joined Sam in looking at Dean again. The older Winchester was still scanning the ruins of the warehouse with a pale face and wide eyes. The foundation of the building was nearly the only thing left to see. The roof was gone, blasted away by Gabriel's outburst, and the walls were reduced to piles of broken brick. The few slabs of wall that were still standing were burned with images of bodies, flashed permanently against surface by the intensity of Gabriel's grace. Castiel had witnessed archangels cause far worse destruction, but apparently, this was the first time Dean had ever seen anything like it. Sam, who had been also been searching the warehouse remnants, glanced toward his brother and Castiel when Gabriel drew him into another hug.

“What happened?” Sam asked, searching their eyes for answers.

Dean's pale lips parted farther as he glanced briefly down at his brother.

“He... he just... snapped,” Dean whispered, seeming unsure of how else to put it.

“Who did?” Sam breathed, his eyes full of confusion, “Who snapped?”

Gabriel's head raised and he met Sam's eyes again. Castiel could feel Dean's hand tightening on the front of his coat as they both watched the seriousness drape over the archangel's face.

“I did,” Gabriel confessed.

Sam visibly gulped at the archangel's words, seeming just as shocked as Dean. Castiel could not understand their disbelief. It was a casual thing for him to see an archangel destroy an establishment. He had witnessed Michael and Raphael cause the destruction of entire countries in the blink of an eye; wipe them from the globe in a single moment. And it secretly baffled and amused Castiel to know that something as small as blowing up a warehouse full of demons could impress the Winchesters...

As the Winchesters and their angels shared a small moment of peace, some rubble began to shift behind them. Castiel and Dean spun around at the sound of tumbling rocks, preparing for an enemy to pop out of the pile of broken bricks. Dean quickly grabbed a gun from the floor to point it in the direction of the shifting rocks while Castiel readied his grace. They were prepared to kill a remaining demon that might have survived the angelic bomb – but thankfully, it was only Bobby Singer.

Dean's gun fell at once as Bobby entered the area. The old man's jaw was hanging open and his eyes were large, taking in the sight of the building damaged by Gabriel's grace. Hints of awe and anger were flickering in his aged expression, making it difficult to pinpoint his exact reaction. Perhaps he was merely upset that the Winchesters didn't wait on him to arrive as he so asked. Bobby's boots shuffled to a stop in the center of the concrete floor and his large eyes fell to look among the Winchesters.

“Wha – what happened?” he asked, breathless.

Dean cleared his throat and his grip on Castiel's coat loosened slightly. His emerald eyes flashed toward the angel momentarily to gain courage before he answered the man's question.

“Gabriel killed all the demons,” Dean breathed, his voice hoarse.

Castiel was aware of the small flicker of pain that lit up Bobby's expression. His shoulders lowered and his eyes widened as if he had just been given terrible news.

“You killed... _all_ of them?” the old man asked, sounding heartbroken.

Castiel was confused by Bobby's reaction. Shouldn't he be glad that all of the demons were destroyed? Why did he appear so full of guilt and grief? Cas shared a brief look of bewilderment with Dean before they both glanced toward Gabriel. The archangel was still gently cradling Sam's head when he met Bobby's eyes with equal confusion.

“You're damn right I did,” Gabe responded, voice holding no regret, “They shot my moose. What did you expect?”

Castiel could sympathize with Gabriel's response. If it had been Dean that the demons killed, Cas probably would have copied his brother's reaction precisely. But even after hearing of Sam's recent injury, Bobby's painful expression didn't fade in the least. On the contrary, the man seemed even more hurt by Gabriel's words. Bobby's head lowered and his lips formed a hard line as he looked toward the floor, blocking his face with the bill of his hat. It was only after everyone else shared glances of confusion that Bobby spoke again.

“Okay,” he mumbled, tone empty, “First round of drinks is on me.”

As the old man began to shuffle back toward the pile of bricks, Dean spun back around to look down at his brother. A meaningful and protective look was on his face when he reached out to touch Sam's shoulder.

“Are you okay?” Dean asked sternly, wanting a truthful answer.

Sam nodded instantly, rocking his head inside Gabriel's hands.

“Yeah, I'm fine,” he replied, voice breathless but honest.

Dean gave a slight nod toward Sam before turning to look fully at Castiel. The angel was immediately engulfed with emerald, unable to look anywhere but into the man's eyes. They were brimming with relief and love, wide and searching the entirety of Cas's soul. Dean's hand finally let go of the coat in order to touch the angel's face. Castiel's spine tingled at the warmth of the man's hand, able to feel it in every part of his body.

“Are _you_ okay?” Dean repeated, voice slightly higher than before.

“Yes, Dean,” Castiel answered lowly.

With a tiny whimper, Dean's mouth lunged forward to meet Castiel's, smothering him with a meaningful kiss. The angel could feel the raw emotion inside this particular kiss, more than any other before it. As their lips suctioned together in a moist embrace, Cas knew that Dean had fretted over more than just Sam's life...

He had worried about Castiel's life, too.

* * *

Dean glanced down the bar to watch his little brother take another swig of his beer. Though he would never admit it, the whole ordeal at the warehouse had shaken Dean up. He was glad that Sam was acting normally; drinking, and smiling, and going on like nothing had ever happened. But it seemed like he was the only one enjoying himself. Everyone else sitting next to him at the bar was feeling the hangover of trauma.

Bobby was drinking shot after shot of whiskey and bourbon, drowning himself in alcohol like a commanding officer who had just lost one of his best soldiers. Dean had no idea why where Bobby's recent sympathy for demons had come from. And, frankly, it was freaking him out. A normal hunter would be patting himself on the back after a demon raid, but Bobby was acting like he had committed treason. What the hell was up with him? And Gabriel – the trickster who usually did his best to stay in the spotlight and be the center of attention – was now silent and unmoving, staring at Sam without saying a word. Dean gulped another drink of his own beer before turning to say 'thanks' to Gabriel for bringing Sam back. But the archangel only shook his head in reply. For once, the trickster didn't want recognition for something. Was there something in the water?

At least Cas was acting semi-normal. Dean flashed his sight toward the angel perched at the bar next to him, watching him sip on his beer bottle. God, Dean had been so worried that something had happened to Cas while Sam was dying in his arms. For a stint of time, Dean actually believed that the demons had killed his angel _and_ his brother and that he was left alone in the world without a soul to cling to. Shit, it had been so freaking scary... Dean clutched Cas's hand under the bar as he finished off the rest of his drink. It was a good thing that Gabriel was such a powerhouse. Dean really owed him one for keeping everybody safe...

After they finished their drinks, Dean, Sam, and their angels walked Bobby back to his hotel room. The guy was as drunk as a skunk, stumbling around like a newborn giraffe, but Dean made sure the old man made it safely to his bed. Once Bobby was taken care of, Dean made a point to give his little brother a hug; holding the guy in a brotherly embrace for at least a few seconds. Seeing him die – _again_ – made Dean think that he needed to remind Sam that he loved him without being so dramatic. The kid didn't seem to mind the hug. Sam just patted his older brother's back before waving him off. Dean gave a slight wave back to Sam and Gabriel, before taking Cas's hand and heading for their own room.

All that drinking at the bar had filled Dean's bladder to the brim. He could feel the pressure on his lower stomach with every step he took. Once they were both in the room, Dean quickly let go of Cas's hand and shot toward the bathroom, sliding out of his jacket as he went.

“I'll be right back, Cas,” he called over his shoulder, “Go ahead and get comfortable, okay?”

The angel replied with a quiet 'alright' as Dean ducked inside the bathroom. The man quickly went about his business, tugging his pants down to free his dick and let the urine start flowing. As the pressure was being released from his bladder, Dean sighed. Man, he had a crazy day today. His emotions had gone for a roller coaster ride, bottoming out just to shoot back up. And the extremes had left him feeling exhausted. At least he would get to fall asleep next to his angel, now...

After giving his dick a good shake and tucking it away, Dean shuffled out of the bathroom in search of Cas's arms. He wanted to fall into them and drift to sleep listening to the angel's heartbeat. But when he found Cas, all of Dean's eagerness slipped away – because the angel was laying on the bed _naked_. Usually, the sight of Cas's bare-naked ass would get Dean's motor running. Even now, he couldn't deny that the sight of Cas's hardened nipples and tensed stomach was turning him on. But his nudity was not what caused Dean to feel queasy...

It was the fact that Cas's eyes were closed. And he was playing with himself.

For some reason, the sight of Cas thrusting into his own hand made Dean kind of sick. When it came to sex, Dean had taught Cas literally everything there was to know, even about masturbation. And now that he knew everything about sex, maybe Cas didn't need Dean anymore. Maybe the angel had finally become bored with looking at Dean's body and was trying to imagine some naked girls now. Maybe it was true that Cas had finally figured out that there was something better out there for him. Maybe he realized that living in his own head was better than living in reality with Dean...

The man briefly considered just leaving the room again and letting Cas finish. But a bigger part of him wanted answers. If Cas really wanted to be left alone, then why wouldn't he just say so? Dean stepped over to the bed and sat on the edge in order to reach over and touch Cas's bare shoulder. The angel's blue eyes fluttered open to look at Dean, drowning him in a sea of blue.

“ _Dean_ ,” he sighed with a smile, letting go of his hard dick to touch the man's thigh.

Dean tried his best to ignore Cas's rocking hips and swaying erection as he looked down into the angel's eyes. Now was not the time to get horny, dammit. Now was the time to talk.

“Look, Cas,” Dean began, feeling a large blockage trying to form in his throat, “I know I'm not good for you, man. I know that all I ever do is mess things up and get people killed. I know how much I've disappointed Sam, and Bobby, and my freaking dad. And I know I've been a royal prick to you in the past. But – but, baby, _please_ ,” Dean croaked, able to feel a hot tear threatening to slide down his cheek, “If you want to move on, just say so. Don't let me go on thinking that I'm making you happy when I'm not, okay? I – I love you so much, Cas, and I don't want to see -”

The angel slapped a hand over Dean's mouth, preventing him from finishing his sentence. The tear finally escaped the corner of his eye and fell to slide over each of Cas's fingers. Cas's blue eyes were full of shock and worry as he sat up in bed. Dean couldn't bring himself to look away from the giant sapphires. He was practically hypnotized by them.

“Dean. What makes you say these things?” Cas asked, voice low and serious.

Dean swallowed harshly as Cas's hand fell away from his mouth. He eyed the angel in front of him, feeling unworthy to even be sitting in the same room.

“You've been closing your eyes a lot lately,” Dean pointed out, “and I know you don't sleep. So, there's gotta be something better going on in your head than there is out here.”

A smile slowly slipped back across Cas's wet lips. He was staring at Dean with wondrous large eyes, looking like a kid who was about to tell their best friend a secret. The angel shifted on the bed to cross his legs, planting himself firmly in front of Dean, before taking both of his hands. Dean had no choice but to get lost in those ocean eyes again.

“Lack of love is not what drives me to meditate, Dean,” he began, shaking his head, “nor is it boredom. I venture into my mind for the same reason you do. In fact, I do it _because_ of you. Because of all the things I've learned from _your_ meditation.”

“Sorry to pop your bubble there, Mighty Mouse, but I don't meditate,” Dean replied.

“You're right. Perhaps 'daydream' is a more appropriate word,” Cas muttered, “Listen, Dean. The truth is, I recently had a conversation with my brother about intercourse -”

“Oh God,” Dean sighed, imagining Gabriel filling Cas's head with shitty ideas.

“- and he told me that in order for us to become closer, I had to indulge in my own fantasies,” Cas went on, “I've seen first hand, how amazing and creative your erotic dreams are. So, I decided to imagine one of my own. One full of all the sexual things that I desire.”

Dean took a moment to let Cas's words sink in. Did the guy just say that he had made up his own wet dream? Did Cas actually take the time to put together all of the things that turned him on into one giant thought? Dean swallowed harshly as his eyes flickered toward the erection in Cas's lap. Geez, it was no wonder the angel wanted to stay lost in his head all the time. The man's eyes slowly flickered back up to meet Cas's before he blurted his next question without thinking.

“What do you think about?” Dean asked, dying on the inside to know.

The smile on Cas's lips grew.

“Would you like to see it, Dean?” the angel offered, already raising his hand.

Dean's mouth fell open. Holy shit, he could _see it_? Cas was about to show him a self-made wet dream! The man was already trying to imagine what Cas's fantasy would be. Maybe the angel's wet dream would turn out be kinky, involving torture devices and bondage. Or maybe Cas always imagined them screwing in the dungeons of hell with demons forced to watch nearby. Or maybe he dominated Dean in a public place, like a local burger joint, in which he spanked Dean and made him beg for mercy. Oh, God, there was no telling what kind of sexy fantasy Cas had invented. Dean just knew it would be hot as hell.

“Yes,” Dean breathed, excited to see the angel's kinky work of art.

Cas's smirk turned soft as he pressed his fingers to the man's forehead. Dean's eyes fluttered shut...

… _and a scene began to appear in his mind. The first thing he saw – and strangely felt – was sunlight. The whole area was full of warm glowing light, shining on his back and against the grass. A giant field was laid out before Dean and a gentle breeze was flowing over the space. The field was relatively flat and looked gorgeously green compared to the clear blue sky. There was a buzz on the air too, as bees began to appear. They weren't doing anything special, just flying around from flower to flower like they did in real life. Was this really Cas's fantasy? Did he accidentally get it mixed up with a memory or something?_

“All I see are bees, Cas,” Dean mumbled out loud.

“Shh,” Cas replied, “Be patient, Dean.”

_Finally, something else appeared in the field. It was the Impala, glistening in the sunshine. The car was parked in the middle of the field, just sitting there with the engine off. Bees were still buzzing along on their merry way, still pollinating flowers. Nothing sexual had happened yet. Dean actually began to think that Cas's wet dream was based solely on the Impala – until he saw a figure walk out from a group of trees nearby. It was Dean. He was carrying a bucket of soapy water and walking toward the car... and he was as naked as the day he was born._

_The dream-Dean started washing the Impala, slapping a soapy rag to the black metal to scrub away some dirt near the hood. Although Dean was happy to finally see some nudity, the sight sort of confused him. The Dean in Cas's dream didn't even have an erection. He was just naked; limp dick, bowed legs, and bare ass out in the open. But there was nothing erotic about it. He wasn't even washing the car in a sexy way. He was just doing it normally. Dean could hear the sound of Cas's baited breath in his ears as he watched himself wash his car. Was Cas actually turned on by this?_

“Cas, is this it?” Dean asked, wondering if there would be anything else.

“ _Yes_ ,” the angel breathed, his voice hitching.

_A smile spread across the man's face as he watched the dream version of himself kneel down to scrub the Impala's rims. The depth of Cas's innocence never failed to amaze him. Dean had been thinking that Cas's fantasy was going to be the kinkiest sexcapade that he had ever seen, with asses and cocks and wings as far as the eye could see. But instead, it turned out that the guy was still as pure as the driven snow. Cas never needed to imagine pink panties or chrome dicks. It seemed like the only thing that truly turned him on was Dean. Just Dean. And nothing else._

“Cas, can I add something to this?” Dean asked, noticing that something was missing.

“Of course,” Cas replied.

_Dean carefully took control of the dream in order to imagine Cas joining him. The naked angel stepped out from behind the same set of trees to walk toward the dream version of Dean. Dean made sure not to add anything to Cas's body. He simply imagined the angel being naked, just like he was. The Cas in the dream stopped near the hood and dream-Dean paused his hard work to raise up and greet him with a kiss. Dean could feel Cas taking control of the scene again to make dream-Dean scoop dream-Cas up and place him on the wet hood of the car. Dean could actually feel himself getting hard from watching himself starting to slide into Cas, thrusting into him slowly and tenderly against the hood. Shit. Why were they just watching this? Why weren't they doing it in real life?_

Dean's eyes opened as he felt Cas's lips against his own. The angel was kissing him in their hotel room now, tugging at the man's shirt and fumbling with his belt. Dean sighed as he tongued Cas back and started sliding out of his pants. Son of a bitch, how could a fantasy that was so simple be so damn effective? Dean's dick was hard and already throbbing from the idea of being inside Cas. And Cas seemed just as eager to have it, already spreading his legs to pull Dean on top of him. Once naked, the man complied with the angel's demands and reached down to stretch him open with a few fingers. Shit, Dean wanted to make love to him so bad. And there was no doubt that Cas wanted it, too.

With a few globs of spit and a single thrust, Dean was inside, feeling Cas's muscles tightening around his dick. Cas let out a tiny moan at his entrance but rocked his hips, encouraging Dean to keep going. The two of them were nearly choking each other with their tongues, unable to get enough of each other. Dean eventually picked up speed to slam faster against Cas's ass, thrusting so hard that the bed was starting to knock against the wall. Cas moaned and panted, his fingers curling against Dean's scalp. Shit, being inside Cas was so amazing. Orgasm was already on a steady rise in Dean's pelvis. Cas's cries were going to be the end of him.

“Ah! _Dean_ ,” the angel whimpered, tugging at his own dick. 

Dean buried his face into the side of Cas's straining neck as he felt the angel's dick pulsing between them. The man kept thrusting, using Cas's orgasm to catapult toward his own. He was licking and sucking at Cas's moist neck when he finally climaxed. Grunts and moans fought to escape his throat while his dick spurted inside Cas. Dean's eyes were rolling around the whole time, catching flashes of the angel's dark hair and the white sheets underneath them. Shit. There was nothing better than coming with Cas...

Even after his hips slowed to a stop and he rested flat against Cas's chest, Dean still found himself wanting to kiss him; wanting to stay high with Cas for as long as possible. In all honesty, he felt kind of guilty. How could he ever think that Cas wanted someone else? Even in his deepest, most secret fantasies, the only thing Cas wanted was Dean. No over-the-top strip teases. No sex toys or lingerie. Not even women. The only things that turned Cas on were bees, the Impala... and Dean.

“I'm sorry, Cas,” the man panted as he raised his head to look down into the angel's baby-blues.

“For what?” Cas asked, seeming lost.

“I – I thought you wanted some distance from me,” Dean admitted, “just like everybody else. But it turns out, you're just as in love with me as the day you plucked my ass out of the fire.”

Cas smiled softly and reached up to rake his fingers through the man's hair. Dean nodded into the angel's soft palm, loving how soft and gentle it was.

“I will always be in love with you, Dean,” Cas whispered, “Until the end of time.”

Dean gulped at the angel's statement, still unable to believe how much sincerity and honesty filled Cas's voice. The man lowered his head to plant his lips against the angel's, kissing him with every ounce of affection his body had left.

“Same here, Cas,” Dean replied, “I'll always be in love with you, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so very sorry for putting you through all the pain at the beginning of this chapter. But I hope that this ending made you feel a lot better. :) I always imagined that if Cas had a secret sexual fantasy, it would be really innocent and sweet. And I really wanted Dean to see it first hand. :) Thank you all from the bottom of my heart for sticking with this story so long. If you made it to the end of this page with a smile on your pretty face, I love you more than words could say! <3 <3 <3 Thank you so much for reading! :) The next - and final - chapter will be out soon! :)


	7. Chapter 7

Dean slung Bobby's duffel bag over his shoulder before reaching down to loop his pinky finger around Cas's. The angel smiled at the action and glanced up to meet Dean's eyes with affection. The two of them were leading the way through the hotel lobby to get to the parking lot with Sam, Gabriel, and Bobby following quietly behind. Well, _Sam and Gabriel_ were quiet, at least. Bobby, on the other hand, was making a bigger fuss than a five-year-old.

“What'er you doin'?” Bobby growled, his voice echoing in the lobby, “Lemme go, dammit. I can walk. I don't need yer help!”

Dean huffed a breath and flashed another glance at Cas. He didn't need to turn around to know what Bobby was doing. The guy was completely smashed this morning. So drunk that he couldn't even keep himself standing upright. Dean put Sam and Gabriel in charge of escorting the old man to the car, knowing that he wouldn't be able to make it by himself without falling over. And Bobby – being the proud no-bullshit hunter that never wanted assistance – was, of course, refusing to comply with the order.

“You had a full-on conversation with my dog this morning,” Gabriel spoke up, “and you knocked the cleaning lady into the wall by accident. What the hell is wrong with you, Singer? Did you drink the entire minibar in your room this morning?”

“Cram it up yer fluffy ass, you lil' prick,” Bobby slurred back, sounding more annoyed than angered.

“Woo, watch out, folks. We've got a badass over here,” Gabriel replied.

Dean rolled his eyes as he walked through the open sliding-glass doors into the parking lot. He had no clue why Bobby was being such an asshole, nor why the old man had been drinking like an alcoholic for the past fifteen hours. Bobby didn't start that shit until he saw the devastation of the warehouse. Did he feel bad about the boys going in without him and getting hurt?

Or was he trying to drown his emotions?

As much as Dean hated to admit it, it wasn't too long ago that he did the exact same thing Bobby was doing now. Dean also tried to consume gallons of whiskey at a time, fell asleep with empty beer bottles in hand, and woke up searching for another drop of alcohol anywhere he could get it. Because watching Cas wade out into that pond – watching the broken angel who had tried so hard to make things right sink beneath the waves of murky water into oblivion – damaged Dean in way he couldn't cope with. Alcohol became his best friend, after that. Even if it did take a monstrous amount of beer to do the job. At least when Dean was drunk, he didn't have to keep replaying the sight of Cas wading out into the pond to die over and over again in his head...

Dean glanced back to meet Sam's eyes. The kid seemed just as concerned, cradling Bobby's arm to carefully pull him along. Sam probably knew that something was wrong, too. Bobby drank a lot, sure. But never this much. Never enough to need help getting around. And, dammit, Dean hated seeing the old man in self-destruct mode. They really needed to figure out what had caused him such pain.

Dean and Cas finally made it to the car, where the man gently unhooked their pinky fingers in order to pop the trunk and put everyone's luggage away. Dean caught sight of Cas gingerly placing the leather case – the case that contained their new chrome toy – near the back. Off to the side, Bobby was suddenly trying to fight his way out of Sam and Gabriel's grip.

“No. Get off me! I ain't gettin' in there!” the old man blurted, deliberately halting to a complete stop.

Dean watched Sam and Gabriel struggling to make Bobby move again. The sight of an archangel and a hunter having to force an old man to walk five feet was pretty pitiful.

“Stop resisting,” Gabriel spat, trying to shove Bobby forward, “Don't make me hurt you, Singer. I'm not above delivering a few open-handed slaps to keep an old man in line.”

Sam glared at Gabriel for that comment but Dean thought that the archangel's idea didn't sound too bad. Maybe Bobby _did_ need a stern hand to wake him up out of the alcohol-fueled bitchfest he was in. Under Sam's glare, the archangel laughed nervously.

“What? I'm just saying,” Gabriel mumbled.

Bobby's half-open eyes raised to shoot Gabriel a scowl.

“Screw you. _And_ the horse you rode in on,” the old man hiccupped.

“Joke's on you, pal,” Gabriel challenged, raising an eyebrow, “I rode in on a _moose._ ”

Sick of all the bickering, Dean slammed the trunk shut with a loud _bang_. The sound echoed around the parking lot and thankfully got everyone's attention. Dean turned to meet eyes with Bobby, hoping that the old man could see just how done he was with all of this bullshit. He felt bad that Bobby was hurting and all, but geez. The guy really needed to straighten up and act like the freakin' grown man he was.

“That's enough, Bobby. When you get home, you can be as much of an asshole as you want, okay? But right now, you need to stow your crap and get in the car,” Dean barked, before adding, “Please.”

Dean hoped that the 'please' sounded genuine enough to convince Bobby to do as he asked. Couldn't the old man see that they were just trying to help him? Although Bobby was still giving Dean that one-eyed drunken glare, he yanked both of his arms free from Sam and Gabriel's grasp. The old man wobbled his way toward the backseat of the Impala, mumbling profanities as he went. Dean shook his head as he watched Bobby climb into the car.

“Bobby's behavior is abnormal,” Cas pointed out, leaving Dean's side to venture around the hood.

Cas's blue eyes were on Bobby too, as all the guys watched him stumble and scoot to the far side of the backseat. The old man's hat was off kilter and his eyes were all glassy, making him look like a zombie movie reject. Concern and curiosity were glowing in Cas's stare and Dean could tell that the angel was just as worried as he and Sam were about Bobby's drunk ass.

“Something is wrong with him,” Dean agreed, “but I don't know what the hell it is.”

Bobby groaned loudly in annoyance as Dean and Cas slid into the front seat. Dean glanced up at the rear view mirror to see Gabriel's dog standing in Bobby's lap. The old man was clearly upset by the little Jack Russell Terrier and the archangel next to him, trying to shrink away from both of them. Bobby met Dean's eyes in the mirror.

“You'd best not be expectin' me to sit next to this yammerin' idjit fer eleven hours,” he warned gruffly, eyes narrowing, “I ain't puttin' up with his smart-ass-ness and the stench of his girly perfume fer that long, dammit.”

“That's not perfume,” Sam blurted on the other side of Gabriel, “That's... just the way he smells...”

Dean glanced over his shoulder to give his little brother a weird look. Really? The kid was defending Gabriel's scent? Sam's face turned a bright shade of red as his eyes flickered away in embarrassment. Obviously, he didn't mean to say that out loud. Dean huffed a breath before returning his attention to Bobby's statement.

“Bobby, it's not gonna take eleven hours,” Dean promised, “In fact, I'm not even gonna start up the car.”

Anger flashed on the old man's drunken face at once. He glared down at Gabriel's dog in his lap before lunging forward to clutch the front seat. The smell of whiskey on his breath could have knocked over a horse.

“Then what the _hell_ am I doing here?!” Bobby spat, giving Dean a full-on glare.

The older Winchester rolled his eyes before turning to look at Cas. Earlier, he and the angels had discussed how they were going to get Bobby home – and it sure as hell wasn't going to be by driving for hours on end. At Dean's signal, Cas nodded and leaned forward to brace both hands on the dashboard. In the backseat, Gabriel was also leaning forward to clutch the backseat while smirking at the old man next to him.

“Hang on to your britches, Singer,” the archangel winked.

Dean gripped the steering wheel tight in his hands as a brief flash of white light lit up the car. After a single blink, the scenery outside the windows changed. The warm sunlight was gone and replaced by thunder and rain. Water was quick to coat the entire windshield and slide in streaks down the glass. Dean scanned the windows, searching to see a familiar sight. Luckily, his plan had worked. Cas and Gabriel had flown the Impala and everyone in it back to Bobby's house. The car was sitting in the midst of his salvage yard and his house was just a few feet away. Dean smiled at the welcoming sight of Bobby's piled up cars and wooden back porch.

“Home sweet home,” Dean said softly, meeting Bobby's eyes in the rear view mirror again.

He truly hoped that the sight of home would make Bobby feel better. But, apparently, it didn't help at all. If anything, the guy seemed kind of disappointed. Bobby blinked slowly out at his house in the rain as if he was staring at a graveyard rather than his own home. Dammit, Dean hated seeing that look of pain on Bobby's face. If _home_ couldn't cheer him up, then what could?

“I won't charge you any airfare this time,” Gabriel said, smirking at Bobby, “But next time, it'll cost you.”

Dean knew that Gabriel was trying his best to get Bobby to smile or laugh or do something besides bitch and moan. But Gabe's banter didn't seem to work on Bobby. The old man only sighed greatly before rolling out of the car to stumble toward his back door in the rain. Dean glanced back at his little brother again, sharing a look of bewilderment as they opened their own doors. It seemed like nothing they did could get Bobby out of his funk.

After getting out of the car, Cas rounded the hood again to meet Dean. The angel's eyes were glued to Bobby's back and full of worry. Dean wished that he could comfort Cas somehow and tell him that Bobby would be fine. But he couldn't. Because he didn't know if the guy would be fine or not. Just like the Winchesters, Bobby never talked about what was eating him. He just let it him and tried to ignore it while it devoured him from the inside out. That was just the hunter's way. And Cas probably wouldn't be able to understand it.

“Perhaps Bobby is in need of comfort, Dean,” Cas suggested, sounding hopeful.

Dean popped open the trunk to dig out the duffel bags again. How could he answer Cas in a way the angel would understand? Dean looked up to meet Cas's blue eyes in the rain as he handed him a bag.

“You can't really comfort a grizzly bear, Cas,” Dean said carefully, hoping his metaphor made sense.

“Sure you can,” Gabriel interrupted, stepping up to snoop around the trunk, “Haven't you ever watched Winnie the Pooh? All you need is a jar of honey... Hey! What's this?”

Dean had to double-take at the archangel, noticing that he had plucked something out of the trunk. Gabriel was holding a case in his hands, now – a leather case that was roughly the size of a woodwind instrument. Dean felt his own face go pale at the sight of the trickster holding it. Oh, shit! Dean's chrome dildo was inside the case in Gabriel's hands! What if he opened it and looked inside?!

“I didn't know you played the flute, Pinky,” the archangel said, already starting to open the clasps, “Were you first chair at band camp or – ?”

Gabriel's sentence was cut short when Dean reached out to rip the case from his hands. The man instantly thrust it into Cas's open arms, hoping that the angel could keep it away from Gabriel better than Dean could. Cas, whose face was holding an equal amount of panic and embarrassment, fumbled around with the case for a second before stuffing it inside his coat. Dean felt a little relieved, knowing that it was in a safe place. He looked back at Gabriel, who seemed confused by their frantic behavior.

“Keep your grimy paws off my stuff,” Dean barked, pointing a stern finger toward the trickster.

After giving his warning, Dean grabbed Cas by the arm and rushed away in an effort to get out of Gabriel's reach before he could ask to see what was in the case. Cas was walking quickly in stride, still smuggling the case in his coat.

“You need to 'poof' that thing somewhere safe, Cas,” Dean hissed in a whisper.

The angel gave a nod before reaching into his coat to do as Dean suggested. The case vanished, leaving his coat empty.

“It's safe now, Dean,” Cas promised.

For a moment, Dean wanted to ask where Cas had sent it, half because he was curious and half because he was worried that someone else might find it. But he withheld his question because he trusted Cas's judgment. Where ever Cas had sent it would be okay... Right?

After forcing a sigh, Dean faced forward to step up behind Bobby. The old man was at his door with the Winchesters and their angels at his back, struggling to unlock the deadbolt. Dean looked over Bobby's shoulder, watching him scape up the lock with the end of his key,in search of the keyhole. The sight was pitiful. How drunk did someone have to be, to be incapable of unlocking their own backdoor? Dean eventually just reached out and took the keys from Bobby in order to unlock it for him. The door swung open and Bobby turned to shoot a glare at Dean as he hobbled inside. He was slurring more curse words as everyone followed him into the dark kitchen.

“Dammit, kid. I coulda done that myself,” Bobby grumbled, staggering toward the counter.

“Spoken like a true hunter.”

The hairs on the back of Dean's neck stood up when he heard the deep voice speak. None of the men or angels in the kitchen had said it. The harsh gravelly tone had from the study, seeping into the air like a growl from a wolf. Dean knew who had said it before he even looked up. That damn accent housed pride that was unmistakably original...

The Winchesters, their angels, and Bobby all turned in the kitchen to face the study, where the doorway was wide open. Lightening was striking in the windows, briefly lighting up the house when they all saw him. It was Crowley, standing in Bobby's study with a glass of scotch in one hand and a cane in the other. The demon was leaning up against Bobby's desk like he was at home and his brown eyes were glancing among the men and angels in the kitchen with amusement. Anger was on a steady rise in Dean as he took in the sight of Crowley standing in Bobby's house. How the hell – and _why_ the hell – was _he_ here?! He had absolutely no right to be in Bobby's house, drinking all the man's alcohol! Dean had been thinking that the entire case involving kids was all Crowley's fault, and if that was true, then the demon had no right to still be breathing, let alone standing in Bobby's study.

Instinct and anger caused Dean to lunge forward and step away from Cas and Bobby in order to barrel toward Crowley. He was glaring at the demon with full force, pissed to see him looking so smug in that stupid suit of his while sipping on a glass of Bobby's good scotch. Sam was walking right behind Dean too, probably wanting some answers for himself. But just as the two of them stepped foot in the study, Bobby caught them both by the arm. Dean stopped to look back at the old man, wondering why the hell he didn't want them to get to Crowley.

Bobby suddenly didn't seem very drunk, anymore. His face was white and glistening with his mouth hanging open as if he had just seen a ghost. His eyes were huge under the skewed bill of his hat and they were staring at Crowley, barely blinking and appearing full of surprise – and relief. Dean blinked down at the old man's face, trying to figure out why that tiny little smirk was trying to work its way onto Bobby's lips. Why the hell did he look so pale and happy all of the sudden? Wasn't he supposed to be drunk off his ass?

Cas and Gabriel had darted on either side of Dean and Sam and when Bobby grabbed the Winchesters arms, they stopped the angels. All five of them were lined in a semi-circle at the entrance of the study, holding each other back because Bobby didn't want them to go any further. The demon leaning against the desk seemed rather amused by the display, glancing from Cas all the way down the line to Gabriel. Pleasant surprise was written all over his stupid face.

“Ah. So, the rumors _are_ true,” Crowley stated, tilting his glass forward, “Moose and squirrel have both found birds to mate with. What a charming fairytale life you boys lead.”

Dean's glare turned lethal. _Fairytale life_? Did Crowley  know who he was talking to?! And how the hell did he find out about Cas and Gabriel, anyway? Whatever happened between a Winchester and his angel was strictly personal business. And no one – especially a demon with a silver spoon up his ass – had the right to talk about it.

“Whoa whoa,” Gabriel interrupted, stepping forward out of the line, “Before we even get started, let's get one thing straight, okay? Sammy is _my_ moose. And _I'm_ the only one allowed to call him that. Get me?”

Crowley's mahogany eyes rolled at Gabriel's statement. Dean was getting rather sick of just standing there, waiting for a freakin' explanation. His patience was already wearing thin.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Dean demanded, restraining himself as much as he could.

The demon smirked and took a sip from the glass; a long, slow sip that made Dean grind his teeth together with annoyance. After taking his sweet time to place the glass on Bobby's desk, Crowley turned forward to meet everyone's eyes again. Dean was absolutely pissed at how comfortable Crowley looked, sitting on the edge of the desk with a hand in his pocket without a care in the world. It just wasn't right.

“I came to offer you all a hardy congratulations on a job well done, of course,” Crowley answered, his smug face lighting up with a smile.

“Congratulations? To us?” Dean repeated, not buying his sympathy for one second, “For what?”

“For winning the local beauty contest,” Crowley growled with sarcasm, giving Dean a half glare before saying, “I'm applauding you for _defeating your latest enemy_ , numbskull. I heard you and your tree toppers had a real blast with him yesterday.”

“We thought _you_ were the enemy,” Sammy said, his eyes full of confusion, “Weren't you the one trying to make deals with kids just to raise your stupid soul count?”

Crowley sighed loudly as he stuffed his hand further into his pocket and rolled the top of his cane around with the other. Ah, shit. Dean could feel a damn monologue coming on...

“First of all, gentlemen, I'm the bloody king of hell. And no one will ever take the crown from me. I've had entire churches of catholic priests hand me their souls in gift baskets adorned with 'thank you' cards. I don't need to soil my hands with child affairs in order to remain in power. Understand?”

Crowley paused for a second, in case anyone wanted to comment. But, of course, nobody said anything. They just wanted him to quit yammering about his accomplishments and get to the freaking point already. The demon continued after the small silence.

“Second – and follow me closely on this – no one, not even Satan himself, has the authority to claim a soul without proper consent,” Crowley informed, “When it involves children, deals come with lots and lots of fine print. Because their souls are so pure and undeveloped, the terms and conditions have to be put in exact words, right down to the very last punctuation mark. I've mastered the art of drawing up contracts for a reason, boys. I'm no stranger to the errors of misplaced words. The smallest mistake on a soul contract will leave you empty handed.”

“Well, thanks for the lesson in demonology,” Gabriel cooed, voice full of sarcasm, “But is there a point you're gonna be getting to soon? Or do you just love hearing the sound of your own voice?”

Dean couldn't stop the flicker of a smirk that flashed on his own mouth as he glanced over at the archangel with pride. For once, Dean was actually glad to hear Gabriel's voice. It was nice to know that the trickster shared his thoughts on this; that Gabriel was just as annoyed by Crowley's presence as Dean was. Maybe Sam was right when he said that Dean and Gabriel had the potential to be best friends... Crowley only gave the archangel a cheeky smirk though, and put on his tough face.

“My _point_ , Big Bird,” Crowley growled, giving Gabriel a glare, “is that the demon you were chasing was a complete and utter moron. Did you ever stop to look at one of his contracts? They had more holes than a golf course. Needless to say, he was quite the amateur. A totally inept buffoon.”

“The contracts had holes?” Dean said, his heart leaping in his chest, “What does that mean for the dead kids?”

“Well, I suppose that all the good little boys and girls took a one-way trip upstairs,” Crowley answered, meeting Dean's eyes to give him a shrug, “Sorry, squirrel. A void contract won't bring them back from the dead.”

Dean swallowed harshly, letting his eyes fall to the floor. Well, at least the kid's souls were safe, right? At least they didn't have to deal with the pain of hell for eternity... Beside Dean, Cas took a slow step forward. His blue eyes were studying Crowley closely and Dean could tell that the angel was skeptical.

“If you were not involved in this,” Cas said, his voice low and severe, “then who is responsible?”

“I believe you meant to say, who _was_ responsible,” the demon corrected, his smirk growing, “You see, Castiel, the culprit was destroyed yesterday, when your brother decided to throw a temper tantrum and vaporize half the block.”

Dean glanced toward Sam and Gabe's side of the room to see if Gabriel was going to reply to Crowley's condescending remark with something witty. The archangel raised his arms to cross them and gave the demon a prideful look.

“You're welcome for that, by the way,” Gabriel said sweetly, batting his eyelashes.

“If you had stopped to pull the halo out of your ass,” Crowley said carefully, placing both hands on top of his cane as he raised an eyebrow at Gabriel, “you might have noticed a red-head on the premises.”

Dean's eyes flew wide. Holy shit. They forgot about that kid! That red-head kid that the demons had yesterday! What had happened to him? Was he dead?

“Yeah,” Sam blurted, looking just as shocked as Dean, “A kid with red hair. Did – did he make it? Is he okay?”

“Well, I certainly hope not. Because he's been making your lives hell for the past few days,” Crowley answered simply.

“What?” Dean said, feeling another wave of shock wash over him, “Whoa. Hold on. Are you saying that the little red-head kid we saw yesterday was the one behind all this 'devil' crap?”

“Yes,” Crowley answered, his brown eyes holding nothing but honesty.

“But... he was a _kid_ ,” Dean said breathlessly, feeling confused.

“You know, Dean, for someone who has spent their entire life hunting, you can be astoundingly ignorant on the job,” Crowley said, making Dean's jaw clinch with annoyance again, “That child was possessed by a crossroads demon. A demon that was attempting to slither his way into my throne by surpassing my soul count. I wasn't worried in the slightest, though. Because I knew that once the Winchesters caught wind of his dirty deals, it would only be a matter of time before he was wiped from the face of the planet.”

Dean looked over to meet eyes with his brother again. So, someone had been trying to steal Crowley's crown by raising their own soul count? And the Winchesters had unintentionally helped Crowley by solving this case? Dean wasn't sure how to feel about this news. He never wanted to help demons. But if they hadn't killed the demon responsible for trying to take Crowley out, who would be on the throne of hell then? What if it was someone worse than Crowley?

“Soooo,” Gabriel sang, his eyes playful and grin spreading, “What you're really trying to say is, ' _Thank you, strong, brave, good-looking Winchesters for saving my ass yet again._ ' Right?”

Dean was glad to see the look of disgust and bitchiness on Crowley's face. In that moment, everyone knew it was true; that Crowley really did come to thank them for taking out his competition. He was just too proud and stubborn to admit it. And Dean was glad that Gabriel had pointed it out and put that look on Crowley's face. It was flat-out priceless.

Dean was sure that Crowley was going to reply to the archangel with something fowl, but instead, the demon's eyes wandered back down the line of men and angels. The mahogany orbs paused on Bobby and Dean noticed that the expression on Crowley's face changed. His eyes softened and his scowl faded. The old man was staring back at the demon, still pale and wide-eyed. Dean could tell that a tiny hint of smugness was hidden in Bobby's stare. Dean glanced between the old man and the demon, wondering why they were looking at each other with such... happiness.

“You've been suspiciously silent these past few moments, Robert Singer,” Crowley purred, his hand finding its way back into his pocket, “Don't you have anything to add to this conversation, seeing as it's taking place in your own study?”

Everybody looked back at Bobby, wanting to know what he was going to say to Crowley. Dean personally thought Bobby was going to toss the demon out on his ass or at least demand him to leave. After wasting the old man's good scotch, Crowley had earned a few good punches to the dick. But, shockingly, Bobby didn't seem upset at all. The dude was practically glowing pink, eyes full of joy and lips twitching with a smirk. Bobby coughed a bit before speaking.

“Do you have it?” the old man asked, sounding embarrassed.

Dean glanced from Bobby back to Crowley, wondering what the hell Bobby was talking about. Oh, God. It wasn't a soul contract, was it? Or some kind of deal? A smirk spread over Crowley's face as he blinked toward Bobby with warmth. It looked like Crowley had been waiting on Bobby to ask.

“Do I have _what,_ darling?” Crowley spoke smoothly, tilting his head forward.

Hearing Crowley call Bobby 'darling' made Dean's insides curdle like spoiled milk. Everyone's heads snapped back toward Bobby in unison as if they were watching a game of tennis. The old man looked fairly embarrassed by Crowley's response, cheeks reddening and eyes narrowing. The crooked bill of his hat tilted downward with his head.

“You _know_ what,” the old man spat lowly.

Dean shared a look of confusion with his little brother again. What the hell were Bobby and Crowley talking about? Was it money? A contract? Drugs? Dean was actually starting to think that Bobby had made a deal or something. Crowley's smirk grew into a full smile after Bobby's statement. Everyone's eyes were watching the demon's hand as it rose to reach into his breast pocket. Dean was secretly preparing to reach into his waistband to retrieve Ruby's knife, just in case Crowley pulled out a weapon or something. But, thankfully, Dean didn't need to retrieve his weapon.

Because the item that Crowley pulled out of his pocket was one of Bobby's hats.

Dean stared with anger and confusion as he watched Crowley softly brush off the worn fabric of Bobby's hat. It was one that the old man wore all the time; the blue one, with the rip in the corner of the bill. The hat was almost as old as Dean himself, adorned with rips and tears that Bobby wore like a helmet into battle. And Crowley was handling it delicately in his hands like it was made of gold, touching it soft and slow while he stared deeply into Bobby's eyes.

“You have so many, I didn't think you would notice one missing,” Crowley explained, his voice low and soft, “I suppose you'll be wanting it back, then?”

Dean was thoroughly lost and angered. He didn't like how Bobby and Crowley were staring at each other so intimately. Bobby, whose cheeks were still red, held out his hand, physically demanding his hat back. Though his hand was stern, his face was much more gentle, holding the subtle hint of amusement and playfulness. Dean could feel himself starting to glare toward Bobby. Why was he smiling like that?! At _Crowley_?!

The demon walked forward, tapping his cane against the hardwood floor, in order to place the bill of the hat in Bobby's hand. Crowley's hand lingered on it too, and for a moment, they were both holding it, eyes searching each others' faces and saying nothing. And the silence made Dean's stomach turn. This was so damn uncomfortable, watching Crowley stare at Bobby as if the guy was made out of chocolate. Dean wanted to break up this moment that Bobby and Crowley seemed to be stuck in, but thankfully, he didn't have to. The demon finally let go of the hat and returned his hand to his pocket. The two of them hardly blinked while they stared at each other.

“Until we meet again, old friend,” Crowley purred.

The demon finally left the room, vanishing into thin air. Dean exhaled audibly, thankful that the discomfort left with him. The older Winchester looked back at Bobby, trying to see if he could figure out why the hell Crowley had one of the old man's hats. Bobby was still standing in the middle of his study, cradling the faded blue fabric in his hands. And Dean didn't understand why Bobby was smiling down at it, looking at it like it was the greatest thing in the world. Had Crowley done something to it? Was there some kind of spell on it or something? And why were Bobby's eyes so damn full of cheerfulness? The guy was a drunken asshole just a few minutes before. What was it about seeing his hat again that made him feel all better?

While Dean stood staring at Bobby with confusion, he suddenly felt Cas's warm fingers slide around his own. The man looked down at their joined hands before flashing a glance up at the angels' face. Cas was staring at Bobby too, only he wasn't glaring like Dean was. A pleasant look was on Cas's features, eyes peaceful and lips curved into a soft smile. Dean glanced from Cas's beautiful, sweet face back to Bobby's hidden smile...

And all at once, he understood. Bobby wasn't just happy to have his hat back. He was happy to _see Crowley_ again. The past few days made so much sense, now. Back at the carnival, Bobby had been so concerned about Crowley; punching that dead demon over and over again out of denial. Maybe he was beginning to think that Crowley was the bad guy. And, at the warehouse, maybe Bobby thought that Crowley was dead after seeing what Gabriel had done to the place. The sight had probably driven Bobby to drink – just like the sight of Cas disappearing into the water drove Dean to drink.

As weird and uncomfortable as it made Dean feel, he finally came to the conclusion that Bobby had a major thing for Crowley. The only reason Bobby even picked up the bottle was because he thought Crowley was dead. Dean couldn't help but feel closer than ever to Bobby after this realization. They had both gone through the same type of trauma and ended up with the same coping mechanism. How could he have missed all of those signs?

Dean glanced back at Cas's lovely face to take in the sight of his gorgeous blue eyes again. It was no wonder why Bobby and Crowley had stared at each other so deeply. That first time Dean saw Cas again, he couldn't help but stare at him for hours, unable to fully comprehend that he was back. Dean's hand tightened around Cas's as he looked back to smile at Bobby. He was glad that the old man was happy for once. Sam and Gabriel seemed just as glad, smiling toward Bobby as they wrapped an arm around each other.

Eventually, the old man's eyes flickered up to glance around. His own smile began to disappear as he caught sight of everyone's stares. His cheeks faded into a deeper shade of red and he coughed loudly, trying to break the silence. He took a few steps forward, crumbling his hat in his hands.

“What're you dipshits lookin' at?” he mumbled, darting quickly out of the room, “Don't you got somethin' better to do besides loiter in my house? Go save some people and hunt some things or somethin.' Geez.”

Bobby wandered out of the study and down the hall, leaving the Winchesters and their angels to smile at each other in his absence. They all knew they had dirt on the old man even though he was too proud to own up to it.

“I think we found the grizzly bear's jar of honey,” Gabriel said, winking up at Sam.

Dean smiled at looked back at Cas. The mention of honey had made him think of Cas's fantasy again, with all those bees flying around. Maybe it was true that Crowley was Bobby's jar of honey. Because the way Bobby looked at Crowley was the same way Dean looked at Cas.

And Cas was, without a doubt, Dean's jar of honey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And with that, the Solo Series draws to a close. :) I know this ending leaves a lot of questions about Bobby and Crowley up in the air, but I'll leave it to you to decide what has/will transpire between them. As I was writing this the first time, I had an entire Crobby arc planned out in my head (and I still remember most of it,) but I didn't want to take anything away from Destiel and Sabriel. I hope you guys enjoyed this ridiculously long, angsty, smutty, weirdly humorous fic. And I truly appreciate you taking the time to hang in and wait months at a time for the rest of it. You're the best readers anyone could ask for, and I hope you're satisfied with the ending! <3
> 
>  **Up next:** I have a Sabriel fic called "Butterfingers," which will be starting tomorrow! I will leave most of the details for the summary, but I'll let you know now that it's sweet, flirty, kind of angsty, and has traces of smut and tons of humor. (It's one of my favorites!) :D And I hope you all will enjoy it as well! Thank you all so much!  <3


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